


Sorry, I don't speak Mando'a

by anch_io



Series: Scraps and Mando [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, I will add tags as I go, Reader has an attention deficit, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, TW: general violence, TW: mentions of slavery, The author ALSO has an attention deficit, so at least it's on brand, tw: blood and injury, tw: mentions of death/grief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anch_io/pseuds/anch_io
Summary: You had to admit, you never thought going to school for engineering would ever land you in a place like this - stuck in the middle of the desert on some backwater planet with a Mandalorian who clearly bit off more than he could chew with this recent bounty. Not to mention getting pinned down by some of the most aggressive Niktos you had ever come into contact with, trying to avoid blaster fire, and having to listen to Mando convince a bounty droid with a death wish to not blow you all up.All you wanted was a steady job fixing ships, not this insanity!
Relationships: Din Djarin/OC, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You, The Mandalorian/OC
Series: Scraps and Mando [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130246
Comments: 68
Kudos: 264





	1. How to lose an engineer in one bounty hunting trip

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work for the Mandalorian! I'm relatively new to publishing fics as well, so any comments are really appreciated. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Stay safe everyone!

You had to admit, you never thought going to school for engineering would ever land you in a place like this - stuck in the middle of the desert on some backwater planet with a Mandalorian who _clearly_ bit off more than he could chew with this recent bounty. Not to mention getting pinned down by some of the most aggressive Niktos you had ever come into contact with, trying to avoid blaster fire, and having to listen to Mando convince a bounty droid with a death wish to not blow you all up.

All you wanted was a steady job fixing ships, not this insanity! You couldn’t even remember what planet you guys had landed on! _Maker_ , that bounty hunter was starting to rub off on you; you saw a big reward and practically went blind. You even agreed to tag along as backup, something you didn’t typically do since you weren’t an official bounty hunter. You sighed and closed your eyes, head leaning against the stone pillar you were hiding behind.

_All this over some damn steel?_

You groaned as you tried to think of a way out, eyes darting along the sandy walls as you thought, _C’mon, you know what Beskar means to Mando, just chill out and try to get out of this alive! It’s only three on thirty!_

(“I like those odds,” you could almost hear Mando say.)

You jumped back as blaster fire chipped the stone pillar you were hiding behind, breaking your train of thought.

“Mando!” you called out to him, watching him sharply turn his head towards you, “What the hell are we going to do? We’re totally pinned here and I’m _quickly_ running out of ideas!” 

He looked back to the door where your quarry was hiding, not answering right away. After a few moments he glanced back into the clearing, jumping back as blaster shots quickly followed him, but that was enough to give him some inspiration.

“Cover me!” he called out to you and the droid as he ran to the automatic blaster. You took out the Niktos taking aim at him as he skillfully ratcheted the Nikto off of it with his metal lasso (you knew he told you what it was actually called, but never could quite remember), jumping on an instant later to take out the rest of them. You jumped back behind cover and listened to the sweet sounds of enemies dropping like flies.

You breathed a sigh of relief as he finished, finally coming out of your hidey-hole and resisting the urge to offer him a high five for a job well done, knowing Mando probably wouldn’t go for that. _Does he even know what a high five is? Do Mandalorians have a post-battle ‘nice job with the ass-kicking’ gesture? Is the IG unit programmed to know what a high five is? How many different behavioral mannerisms are programmed into_ \- 

_Focus_! You shook your head and got back into the game, watching the Mandalorian and the IG unit blast down the door separating you from your quarry, guns at the ready. A Nikto darted out from the hall and you quickly shot him down.

“Anyone else?” Mando called out. If there was anyone else still there, they knew better than mess with a Mandalorian.

Speaking of which, it didn’t look like there was anyone else in the building, certainly not any fifty-year old quarries hiding out. You lowered your blaster and fell in step behind Mando as he and the droid followed the exponentially faster beeping of the tracker. You all stopped in front of an egg-like capsule covered in netting. You kept your blaster ready at your hip as Mando cleared away the net and pushed a button on the capsule, opening it with a _click_ and a _hiss_.

_Holy shit, is that a -_

“Wait,” Mando said urgently, “They said fifty years old.”

“Species age differently,” the IG unit said simply.

_Fifty years old?_ Your thoughts were racing as you stared at the small green baby, _What stage of development is he in? Is it even a he? Does its species have gender? I can’t get over that this little thing is practically twice my age! Fifty years old, Maker, this baby is older than the Empire! What is its corresponding age in human years? How old could it grow up to be? Would that even be a fair comparison? I guess it wouldn’t, since we don’t know if it grows and dies at the same rates and developments as humans do. Can it speak? Is it old enough to speak? Can it learn if it can’t? It looks like he/she has an appropriate mouth for speaking Basic. Maker, where did this little thing even come from -_

Mando grabbing the slowly raising arm of the IG unit startled you out of your thoughts; crap, what had you just missed?

“No,” Mando said shortly, “We’ll bring it in alive.”

“The commission was quite specific,” IG replied, again raising his blaster, “The asset was to be terminated.”

You knew that the bounty was dead or alive, but killing a baby is out of the question, no matter how much money its corpse costs. 

Oh god, what had your life become? You _knew_ you should’ve stayed at that job on Tatooine!

You took aim at the IG’s central processing unit and took fire, just barely beating Mando to the punch and sending it sprawling to the floor, as dead as droids can be.

“Can you believe that guy was going to _kill_ a _baby_? That’s pretty fucked up,” you said light-heartedly, holstering your blaster and stepping up to the floating canister.

Mando was silent as he regarded the child. Slowly, as if he himself didn’t realize he was doing it, he raised his hand and held out one finger. The child cooed and grabbed onto it with a three-fingered grasp, blinking his large eyes and turning his huge ears up. Your heart jumped at the cute picture they made, then sank again as you came to terms that this kid was the quarry you were looking for. Turning it in meant Mando could reclaim enough Beskar to rebuild his armor and probably still have some left over. Beskar was hugely important in his culture, this much you knew about the ever-elusive Mandalorians. But, turning it in meant leaving a defenseless kid in the hands of Empire loyalists. And sure, you two didn’t know exactly what they had planned, but it obviously wasn’t something good. The lack of a live bounty requirement told you as much.

Mando had since taken his hand back, still as silent as ever. He stood and began to walk back to the Crest, knowing you would follow. He needed you to be reliable and above all, _self_ -reliant. It was one of the traits he had admitted he had hired you for, alongside your engineering skills and passable skill with a blaster. 

You would like to think that after a year of working with Mando that you understood his silences better, but if you were being honest he could still be frustratingly indecipherable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, watching his back as you slowly traversed the desert. Was he still going to turn the bounty in? Did he have another choice? What was the Guild code for this sort of thing?

Your trek soon led you to a path with high rock walls on either side, boxing the three of you in. 

“Hey, Mando?” you asked, your voice loud in the quiet of the desert path, “What are you thinking?”

He turned his head back towards you for a moment, never breaking stride. “About what exactly?”

“This bounty.”

“What about it?”

You sighed harshly and tried again, “C’mon, you know what I mean. What are you planning to do once we get back to Nevarro? Are you really going to turn the kid in?”

“It’s not a kid, it’s a quarry,” he said without much emotion, “It’s against Guild code to willfully harbor or release quarries once they are in the possession of a bounty hunter. They must be brought to the client.”

Well, that answered one of your questions. Still… “B-but Mando - “

“My hands are tied,” he interrupted you, ending the conversation and once again facing forward. You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and walking next to the canister that held the million dollar baby. It was looking around with a childlike curiosity, catching your eye when it noticed you staring and offering you a small, tooth filled smile. You felt your heart squeeze itself in your chest at the innocent stare.

You couldn’t turn in this baby, you don’t think you could forgive yourself if you did. But what were you supposed to do? It was Mando’s bounty and his obligation to the Guild, but you wouldn’t be breaking any laws if you were to willfully harbor or release the kid. Just as a plan started to form in your mind, reality came crashing back, quick and forceful. _Would Mando let me leave with the baby? If he didn’t, I wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight, then_ my _hands are tied. Possibly literally. But we can’t turn this baby over to the Empire! The droid-despiting, Empire-hating Mando I know wouldn’t turn a little kid over to them either, but the Guild is his only source of income, he can’t turn from his only source of livelihood so easily for a kid he doesn’t know. But this is a child! A person! A person with no one else on this planet willing to help him_ \- 

You ran into Mando’s back, making the two of you stumble a bit. You didn’t notice him stop in the creepy boxed-in path. He caught his footing and turned back towards you, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you _knew_ he was giving you a serious stink eye.

“Sorry,” you said lamely, dusting off your pants as nonchalantly as possible, cringing in embarrassment. _I really need to pay better attention_ , you thought not for the first time on this trip.

He didn’t say a word, making you restless and uneasy. Unfortunately, your usual response for restlessness and unease was rambling, which you immediately started to do.

“I really am sorry,” you said quickly, “I didn’t even notice you stop and I do feel bad, I was just so distracted - ”

“Quiet,” he said, his tone putting you on alert. You stepped closer to the kid, slowly reaching for your blaster. 

Out of the wall came a Trandoshan, and he came out _swinging_. Mando immediately began to engage, meleeing while you grabbed the floating canister and got out of range. Mando was quickly overpowering the man, but before you knew it the Trandoshan’s two friends came out as backup. 

“Mando!” you called out as a warning, grabbing your blaster. One of the ugly bastards caught sight of you and the child, making a beeline towards you, a huge axe raised above his head in preparation for a downward blow. You took aim and pulled the trigger, only no blaster fire came out. 

“ _Shit!_ ” You threw the busted blaster to the ground and pushed the bounty behind you. You pulled the knife Mando insisted you kept on you from its sheath on your leg, getting into a lower defensive stance with the knife at the ready. You figured you couldn’t beat the thing in a strength contest based on the amount of muscle the guy had, but you might be faster, and that’s what you were banking on. As he got into range, you leaned right, swiping at his side and part of his arm while kicking at his right knee, effectively breaking his stride and strike. He roared in rage and stumbled back before raising his axe again, his yelling getting spit on your face as he charged again. 

_I don’t think he’ll fall for that trick again,_ you thought fast as he came running back to you, _What should I do? He can’t block with a two-handed weapon, but one good hit on me and I’m a goner. I can’t run and leave the bounty behind either, Mando and I have put too much effort into this to fail here. If I sidestep he’d have a straight-shot to the canister, which means I’ll just have to take him head on and hope I don’t die horribly._

You bent your knees and held your knife with both hands, getting ready to get really messy really quickly. Just as the Trandoshan was upon you, axe raised, he disintegrated. All over you. _Not the kind of mess I was envisioning._

You quickly spit dust out of your mouth and, thinking a terrible thought, yelled shrilly, “Ew, gross! That better be dust and not bits of the guy you just jellified all over me, Mando!”

“A thank you, would be e-enough,” he grunted as he struggled to his feet, two dead Trandoshans at his feet. 

You trotted over and pulled him the rest of the way up, noting the tracking devices on the dead Trandoshans. _Bounty hunters_. You looked back to Mando, offering a sincere and completely serious, “Thank you, Mando, I appreciate it. To be honest, I was quickly - ”

“Running out of ideas?” he said innocently, but you knew him long enough to recognize a tease when you heard one.

You smiled and let go the hand you used to pull him up. “Ha ha, very funny. Now, let’s get going before more bounty hunters show up. My blaster jammed at the worst possible time and all I’ve got now is my knife.”

He reached into one of his seemingly endless holsters, handing you a blaster. “Here, take this, but grab the jammed one too, we might be able to fix it back on the Crest.”

You nodded, sticking the functional gun into your holster and walking back to where you dropped your broken one. While you did this, Mando used the controls on his pauldron to commandeer the canister holding the child. You all had a long trip ahead, but continued to travel until nightfall, stopping to make camp when you could no longer see where you were walking. 

You built a fire while Mando began cauterizing his wounds.

Once you had a steady source of heat to ward off the desert chill, you sat next to Mando, trying to look around at his wound. “Did you get hit bad?”

“No,” he said, voice colored lightly with pain as he continued to cauterize, “It’s small, but a little deep. Nothing life-threatening.”

You reached out a hand, making him pause. “Let me help, my hands are a bit steadier than yours.”

He huffed and plopped the tool in your hand, but not before giving you a stubborn, “My hands are steady.”

You hummed back sarcastically and kneeled in front of him, peeling back the ripped shirt to see the wound. He was right, it was small, but definitely deep enough to hurt and continue to bleed hours later. 

“I’ll try to be quick, let me know if you need a break,” you said. You held up the cauterizer and picked up where he left off. He didn’t make a sound, but you could hear his breathing speed up. You kept going until he made a startled noise. You stopped and looked at him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, looking down and that’s when you noticed the little guy had jumped out of the canister, three-fingered hand held out towards Mando’s arm. 

“No, this isn’t something you should see,” you said gently, grabbing it and placing it back in its bed.

You went back to work, but the little green thing was persistent. You’d hardly gotten any more work done before you noticed a claw reaching up. You sighed, and this time Mando wordlessly grabbed the child, placed him back in the canister, and closed it, turning back and quickly getting back in the same position he was in earlier. Taking the hint, you continued fixing his arm.

After a few minutes of silence, you decided to bring up the Blurrg in the room. “Mando, be straight with me, are you going to turn it in?”

He didn’t acknowledge you right away, letting the sound of the cauterizer fill the empty space. Finally, he spoke.

“Yes.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and offered no response in return. After a while, you finished his wound and sat back on the sand, looking up into the sky at the stars.

You can’t live with yourself if you let Mando turn the kid in, but you don’t know what other option you had. If you ran with the kid, Mando would undoubtedly find you if no other bounty hunters found you first. You wouldn’t have any income anymore, so you wouldn’t be able to provide for the kid. To be honest, you weren’t sure you were even ready to take care of a child, let alone one that was older than you were and had every bounty hunter and their mother searching for it. This isn’t what you trained for, and even if you thought your heart was in the right place, you refused to remove your mind from reality. 

And the reality was? You can’t take care of this kid, and you can’t work for a man who would turn in a kid, regardless of your past.

You tore your gaze from the sky and looked at Mando. He turned to face you as you did.

“Listen, Mando,” you said, “I’m not going to tell you how to do your job, or what is right and wrong. I can hardly be the moral authority here after everything I - ” you swallowed. Getting off track. “Okay, let me start over. Here’s the deal. If you turn in this bounty, I don’t think I can work for you anymore.”

Predictably, he said nothing. Frustrated and becoming a bit angry, you continued, “What, no comment?”

Your anger seemed to fire up a bit of his own, and he quipped back, “What do you want me to say? You are allowed to quit whenever you want for whatever reasons you have.”

You looked away. “Mando, I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, his anger slowly building. 

“What I’m _saying_ ,” you bite back, “is that I didn’t sign up to work for a glorified _kidnapper._ ”

He flinched a bit at that, and you felt bad for inciting such a reaction. That didn’t change that what you said was how you feel.

Your anger fizzled out, and you said, “Mando, since I promised to help you on this job, I will continue to work with you until we get to Nevarro, but then I’m going to part ways with you there.” You stood and moved to where you had set up your bed, slowly settling down while he took the first watch. Before you turned to sleep, you offered your final words on the matter.

“Mando, I know the kind of person you are, and I don’t want to admit that I was wrong if you end up going through with this. I know there is good in you, and I don’t want to leave you if I don’t have to.”

Once again, as he had for most of your partnership, he said nothing, and you slept.


	2. A quiet stroll with an even quieter Mandalorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter leads through the events halfway through Episode 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, the child will not permanently be called "it", Mando and the reader don't know the child's gender yet, but I'm hoping to resolve that in the next chapter. I'm sorry if this makes anyone uncomfortable, it made me uncomfortable writing it and I can't tell you how many times I had to go back and fix it.

The rest of the trek back to Crest was … _awkward_ , to say the least. And there wasn’t much to look at in the desert, so you were resigned to stare at Mando’s back and the closed canister that kept alongside him. You thought about asking him to open it just so that you had something to focus on other than his damn holey cape, but you cringed even imagining his reaction to a request like that.

It sucked, and in normal circumstances you could talk to Mando to keep yourself focused, but it was too tense between you two to talk about anything at all. That and the complete lack of scenery made it difficult to stop your thoughts from racing.

_Maybe I was too harsh on this, too harsh on Mando - I mean I did put him in a difficult position, making him lose an engineer over his most lucrative bounty. I mean, I know he could probably replace me with enough time, so it can’t be that great a loss. Engineers are a dime a dozen. Maker, how much time had passed since we entered the desert? It feels like it was so long ago, the days have sort of blurred together._ Looking at the horizon, you saw a blur of land and sky, their boundary was indistinguishable. You spaced out staring at it, the silence and heat making you melancholy with memories.

It reminded you of Tatooine, the planet where you had spent a chunk of your childhood before leaving home to become an engineer. _Mom was so mad at me,_ you thought, your low mood deepening further, _I left even though she took me in and offered to train me herself. Sure, we’ve spoken since, but I know she’s still upset with me._ You looked at Mando’s back, noticing that the distance between you two had widened. Your stride must’ve slowed. _Or_ , you mind thought traitorously, _he’s trying to get away from you_.

Eh, you wouldn’t blame him if he felt that way, the tension had done nothing but grow during today’s walk. You felt it constricting your throat and making all your steps impossibly loud. You could’ve wept with relief when the top of the Crest became visible over the edge of the hill you were climbing. In sync, you and Mando sped up to climb over the dune and get going back to Nevarro.

Mando got to the top before you and stilled, then he quickly got down to a knee and took out his long-range disintegrator. You rushed to the top and what you saw made your heart stutter. _Jawas_. They were taking apart the ship you’ve poured your heart and soul into, leaving it nothing more than a heap of scrap metal.

“Oh no you don’t, you little sand bastards,” you muttered as you took aim with the blaster Mando had lent you, missing once due to the distance before correcting your aim, managing to hit a handful of them. The Jawas, however, were quick to abandon ship and take what they had already stolen. Mando immediately bolted after them, the closed canister following behind at a rapid rate.

“Wait, Mando!” you ran after them, but you weren’t as fast as a seasoned Mandalorian. You could barely keep pace, and you definitely weren’t closing the distance. You ran along the tracks left by the Jawas monstrous vehicle and watched as Mando foolishly tried to kill every Jawa he came into contact with. You winced when he was electrocuted, and panicked when he fell to the sand and rock below. _Shit, is he still alive?_

You ran to his side and dropped onto your knees, placing a hand on his chest and peeling down a little bit of the fabric on the left side of his neck, gently pressing two fingers there too. You ignored the concerned cooing of the baby coming from inside the canister and stopped breathing to listen closely to the Mandalorian’s vitals. After a few moments of feeling his chest move with each breath and a steady pulse against your fingertips, you sighed in relief. Mando was going to be fine, but he was definitely going to feel that when he woke up. 

“Thank the Maker,” you panted to yourself. You grabbed his wrist and pressed a button to open the floating container. Two large eyes looked at you from the edge, but immediately turned concerned when he saw the Mandalorian. You smiled at him as reassuring as you could. “It’s all right buddy, he’ll be okay.” 

The child seemed to understand, his overly large ears turned up. You took a few deep breaths to calm your breathing, noting that you needed to up the amount of cardio you did, or at least be fast enough to keep up with Mando. 

_Except I won’t need to keep up with him anymore_ , you realized, and the thought made you pause. _I’m leaving as soon as we get to Nevarro. Where will I go? Back to Tatooine? To another planet entirely?_

_Maybe if I stayed on Nevarro, I could still see Mando_ \- 

You stopped that thought in its tracks and harshly exhaled, running a dusty hand over your hair, now tangled and filled with sand and dust and possibly disintegrated Trandoshan. You looked back to the unconscious Mandalorian. His Beskar helmet shined dimly under the harsh sun, and you knew that when it was new it must have been blinding to look at. You realized dimly that you weren’t exactly sure how old his helmet was. Still, the rest of his armor was inferior to the helm, and carried years of wear and tear. A hoard of Beskar would make him armor that could protect him far better than his current set. The thought, despite the implications behind it, comforted you a little. It didn’t matter if you stopped working together, you didn’t want harm to come to the Mandalorian. 

Even though Mando was easy to get along with, he was a pretty closed book. The only personal details he ever offered were about Mandalorian culture, something that you knew was endangered after the Empire sought to wipe them out. But those details, while personal, were not individualistic; you didn’t know much about the _person_ you called Mando. The closest you could get was knowing his dry sense of humor, mannerisms, pet peeves, that sort of thing. The two of you were closer than coworkers, but not quite friends. Work friends? Who’s to say, especially when you weren’t sure what Mando viewed you as. Your relationship revolved around work, whether that be bounty hunting or engineering, and occasionally you patched each other up and cracked a joke.You never shared a meal for obvious reasons, but on the rare occasion he would offer silent company when you ate.

Laying it out like that, it made the relationship you two developed seem less developed than it actually was, which was depressing considering the two of you only had each other for company a majority of the time.

Not many people to talk to when all but one of them on the Crest was frozen in carbonite.

You desperately wanted to be friends with Mando - it was honestly kind of embarrassing. Wanting to be friends with someone wasn’t a new feeling, and it brought back to mind a conversation you had had with your mother not long after she had taken you in. She had put a word to the lonely emotion you were feeling, and in the quiet of the desert you could even remember her voice.

_A squish!_ She had said it knowingly, had dazzled the younger you with her knowledge. _It’s like a crush, but for when you want to be friends._

Smiling softly at the still body of the bounty hunter, you admitted it. You had the biggest squish on Mando. Though, you weren’t sure what could be done about that. The distance between you felt insurmountable, especially now.

You brought out of your musing by a tiny green hand grabbing at your shirt, pulling it for attention. You turned and looked down at the little goblin. Now that it had your attention, it raised its little arms, pulling your heartstrings. _It wants to be picked up_.

You obliged immediately, crossing your legs to get comfortable and setting it down gently in your lap. It stared at Mando, absently pulling at the cuff of your pants and cooing. You rubbed a little circle into the edge of its ear and it leaned into the touch. You wondered if it had ever been properly taken care of, had felt a comforting hand or had someone rock it to sleep. 

_I can’t imagine we’ll ever know that_ , you thought, _but that doesn’t mean it can’t have it now_. 

You slowly passed your hand over its wrinkled head, rubbing little circles with the pads of your fingers. It leaned back, closing its eyes and opening its mouth without realizing. After a few minutes of it not moving you thought it must’ve fallen asleep. The second you took your hand away it squawked loudly, reaching back for your hand and putting it back on his head.

You chuckled, continuing your previous movements. “Okay, okay, I get it, you little bossy thing.” The child cooed and once again leaned back, eyes once again closed, but apparently not asleep.

A groan from Mando caught both of your attention, and you gently set the child back in the pram and knelt next to Mando.

“Hey Mando,” you said lightly, helping him to a sitting position, “How are ya feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he said, struggling to his feet, taking stock of the situation. The Jawas had gone off with a significant portion of the ship, but the three of you were alive and mostly well, that had to be a net positive.

You sighed and kicked up a bit of sand, covering a small bit of the tracks the Jawas had left. “What now?”

“We need to get those parts back,” Mando said, “That Ugnaught should know where the Jawas hide, that’ll be the fastest way to get those parts back and get on our way.” He turned to face you, most of the tension between you seemed to have evaporated when he passed out. “There might be repairs that need to be done, Jawas aren’t known for stealing parts gently. Do you think you’ll be okay to stay with the ship?”

You nodded, absently rubbing your hands together and looking at the horizon where you knew the Crest was. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll start patching up what I can and make sure nothing else gets stolen.” You turned to him and the baby, and a sudden thought came to you. “Do you want me to watch the quarry while you take care of the Jawas?”

“No,” he said immediately, but there was no heat behind the words, “We don’t know how many other bounty hunters are out here. It’ll stay with me.”

“Fair point,” you replied, “Alright, I’ll make my way back to the ship. If you’re not back in two days I’ll start looking for you guys. But to be honest, I really don’t want to go on a wild goosechase on this Maker-forsaken planet, so please be back soon.” You threw one final comment over your shoulder as you began to make your way back to the Crest.

“Stay safe, and don’t get yourself killed!”


	3. The Mandalorian gets a mudbath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows through the rest of episode 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is beginning to pick up, so I will be updating when I'm able to, but probably not as fast as I have been up until now.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Stay safe, stay healthy!

“Maker!” you agonized to the sky, “Why did you have to create shitty Jawas?”

Those little hooded fuckers had _tore apart_ the Crest - you’d been at work for a day and half already and there was still so much to do. You had to rewire much of the ship, including recasing the wires so they didn’t short. They bent metal as they were ripping out components, making you dust off your blowtorch to bend everything back into place. Not only that, but they tracked sand _everywhere_! You had spent the first couple hours alone sweeping it away with a broom so old it hardly worked.

By now you were sweaty, tired, frustrated, and _covered in goddamn sand_ \- 

“Ugh!” you yelled out, throwing your wrench against the outside of the ship, not leaving a dent in the tough exterior but letting out a loud and satisfying _clang!_

You sighed and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes. Where was Mando? It was coming up on the two day limit and you _really_ didn’t want to try and find him in that huge expanse of land.

(You especially didn’t want to think about _why_ you might need to find him.)

Taking a few deep breaths you walked over to the tossed aside wrench and picked it up, getting back to work. If Mando wasn’t back by nightfall, you’d find the Ugnaught and then start searching. Granted, searching was not one of your strong suits, and you had only done it once before. 

Two months after you started working for Mando he took a case on Naboo, hunting a Gungan of some nobility on skipping bail. A typical case with a strange quarry for sure, but he had told you it shouldn’t take more than a few days. After a week passed with no contact, you began to worry. Naboo was a pretty tame planet, you figured it wouldn’t be too dangerous to go out and search for him. After grabbing a medkit, you took off to the huge forests of Naboo, going in the direction you had seen him leave days ago. You looked for him for hours, occasionally calling out for the Mandalorian while your concern grew. After night had fallen, you had officially begun to panic.

“Mando!” you called out, louder and with more emotion than you had intended, “Mando! Are you out there?”

Somewhere off in the distance to your left, you heard a blaster shot. You immediately dashed off in that direction. _Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, hold on Mando, back-up is on the way!_

You sprinted with your blaster in hand, stopping at the edge of a small clearing. In the center was a dead Gungan, splayed on the ground with a blaster not far. There were two blaster wounds on him, one in the heart and another on the side.

“Mando?” Your whisper was devoured by the dark and the rustling forest.

“H-here,” a pained and too-quiet response came from the other edge of the clearing. You skirted around the corpse and saw the Mandalorian leaning against the trunk of a huge tree, slumped with his legs straight out, like he had fallen there and hadn’t moved since. Even in the dark, you could see the slick, shiny, dark stain on his side. Blood. 

“I was w-worried you’d miss the s-shot I fired.” It seemed blood loss made him more forthcoming, but Maker, he sounded _bad_.

“Holy shit, what happened Mando?” you reached for the edge of his undershirt, slowly peeling it up. He hissed and grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You let him throw your hand aside, even if it was a little rude.

You tried to get a better look at his wound, but the way he was hunched over made it hard to get to. “Mando, I brought a medkit, but I need you to lay flat for me to fix it properly. Can I move you?”

His ragged breathing was your only answer for a few moments, then he nodded a few times, taking a steadying breath. 

“Alright,” you said, “let’s do this. I’ll make it quick, but feel free to stop me if it’s too much.” You wrapped an arm around his upper back and grabbed his legs, moving him quickly to the ground in a fluid motion, trying not to jostle him too much. Despite that, he gasped, groaning when you were done.

“Sorry, sorry!” You said quickly, “I tried to be gentle but I didn’t want to draw out moving you too much if it was going to hurt anyway, but I understand if you need a minute before I start. Actually, I’ve never been shot in the stomach before, so I don’t _totally_ understand, but I was shot in the arm a few years back when this _really_ uppity Hutt accused me of ripping him off at the last garage I worked at - “

“It’s - “ Mando had gasped, taking another shaky breath before continuing, “ - okay. I’m ready. Medkit?”

You blushed, grabbing it out of your bag. “On it.” You gently peeled his undershirt up, staining your fingers with blood. You couldn’t see much in the dark, so you pulled out a flashlight, inspecting the blaster wound.

Only, it _wasn’t_ a blaster wound. Blaster wounds singed and burned the skin, but there was just a hole in the Mandalorian’s side, blood still oozing out. 

“What were you hit with?” you asked him urgently.

“Not a b-blaster,” he struggled, “it was a - a _projectile_.”

You reached a hand to his back, not feeling an exit wound. Whatever he was hit with, it was still in there.

“Mando,” you said seriously, “whatever it is, I need to pull it out. I’m going to give you an injection for pain and a numbing agent, take it out, and then give you an e-bacta shot for infection. I’ll take you back to the Crest after, okay?”

You didn’t wait for a response, pulling out the first two syringes and getting to work. You waited for his breathing to even out after you administered the shots. To make sure he couldn’t feel the wound, you lightly pressed on it. When his haggard breathing didn’t hitch, you grabbed your flashlight and a pair of thin-nosed tongs, searching for whatever had hit him. It didn’t long for your tongs to hit a small bit of metal, which you patiently took out and placed to the side. 

“It’s out!” you told him cheerily, grabbing the e-bacta and getting ready to inject him with it. As you began to lower the needle closer to his skin, he gently grabbed your wrist again, holding the needle away.

“C’mon Mando, you can’t tell me you’re scared of needles,” you teased, “Besides, I already gave you two shots so you can’t use that excuse.”

“Do you have normal b-bacta?” he asked, his voice, while now more steady, was raspier than usual. “That stuff makes my head swim.”

You hummed in understanding, putting the e-bacta away and coming back with a bacta spray. You sprayed his side and he sighed in relief. For good measure, you packed and wrapped the wound.

“We’ll wait for a few hours for the bacta to work its magic until we make our way back,” you told him, sitting cross legged next to him, “I’ll keep watch, so feel free to sleep for a bit if you want.”

He sighed, content, and turned his head to face you. “Thank you.”

You smiled. “Anytime.” 

The Mandalorian did end up sleeping for a few hours, hardly moving and never making a sound. When he woke up, his wound had healed a great deal and he was able to walk back to the Crest. You carried the dead bounty though, not wanting him to agitate the wound.

“Maker, this guy is heavy,” you grunted, nearly at the Crest, “By the way, you never told me what happened, Mando. So - what happened?”

“He took me a little by surprise,” he admitted, his helmet turned towards the floor, “His kind don’t typically leave water or use weapons, and Gungans are known to use more primitive weapons when they do.” He nodded at the bounty, adding dryly, “This one shot me.”

“I mean, Mando,” you panted with exertion, “they are called _Gun_ -gans.”

His head turned sharply to you, stilling as he took in your cheeky grin. 

And then, he _laughed_ , and it was a truly beautiful sound that made you smile even wider. After that, you and the Mandalorian had become a little closer. You remembered this hunt fondly, even if it took you hours to wash the Gungan blood and slime out of your shirt.

While that hunt had ended well, you weren’t so confident about this one ending well too. This was by far the most complicated job you two had ever taken, and the one of the only where you had been directly involved. Mando had already found himself on the business end of ten bantha prods and lost half of his ship, what else would happen before you got back to Nevarro?

Nevarro brought a rush of emotion in your chest, and you pushed the thoughts down for the time being. _Not the time_.

Deciding to keep working until nightfall, you put your welding goggles on and continued to fix the Crest.

* * *

As the sun was beginning to dip into the horizon, you saw something approaching in the distance. You jogged into the Crest and grabbed one of Mando’s monoculars, focusing it on the object slowly approaching the ship. You laughed victoriously when you saw Mando, the baby, and the Ugnaught returning.

With _all_ the missing parts from the Crest.

Jogging to meet them when they were close, you couldn’t keep the grin off your face. “You got everything back!”

Mando turned to you in greeting, hopping off the transport when they came to a complete stop. The open pram followed behind him, the child fast asleep inside.

“Aw, did it get tuckered out?” you asked, running a hand over its head. You didn’t mean it as an actual question, but you caught the way Mando stiffened in the corner of your eye. Without moving, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest, you looked back to the baby. You saw its chest rise and fall evenly, its ears twitching as it dreamed, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It seemed to be okay, but why would Mando have reacted that way? What happened out in the desert?

Turning back to Mando, you realized the man was absolutely _covered_ in dried mud, caking the curves of his armor and sticking to his clothes.

“Whoa, what the hell happened to you out there?” you asked incredulously, “I didn’t even know there was enough water to _make_ this much mud out here.”

He laughed dryly, giving you a sarcastic, “Ha.” He walked back to the parts and began untying them. “How’s the rest of the ship?”

“I’ve fixed almost all the damage,” you told him, filling your arms with parts, “All I needed were the rest of the parts!”

You two and the Ugnaught got to work right away, but it still took another two days of work to get the Crest back in fighting shape. Not quite perfect, you hated to admit, but there was only so much you could do without a full maintenance facility. 

As you were packing up everything to go, you heard Mando speak to the Ugnaught.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said, “Please allow me to give you a portion of the reward.”

“I cannot accept,” the Ugnaught replied, “You are my guest, and therefore, I am in your service.”

“Then all I can offer is my thanks.”

“And I offer mine,” the Ugnaught said kindly. He gestured out to the desert. “Thank you for bringing peace to my valley.” The man walked down the ramp and saddled onto his Blurrg, offering some parting words that soured your stomach, despite the intention.

“And good luck with the child. May it survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken”

* * *

You were still a few days out from Nevarro, and it had been an interesting couple of days with your newest addition to the ship. If you had any doubts about the child’s mental state, you certainly didn’t anymore. If the child wasn’t messing with the ship’s controls, it was making a mess in the kitchenette that was tucked in the back of the ship, or it was begging for attention. It seemed to have a particular attachment to Mando who, despite all his posturing and sometimes downright cold attitude, was exceedingly gentle with the child and watched out for it. You even caught him pulling a small ball out of its mouth so it wouldn’t choke.

_What a big metal softie_ , you thought, though the thought was not entirely happy. Mando had contacted Karga and confirmed the bounty’s capture and had orders to bring it directly to the client.

Looks like you were going to have to find a new job.

As you were at work fixing the blaster you had busted back in the tussle with the Trandoshan, a god awful smell made its way to your nose, making you cringe.

“Maker, Mando, what the hell _is_ that?” you yelled to him as you climbed towards the cockpit, the smell only getting stronger. He turned to you and tilted his head.

“My helmet has a filter for smells and alerts me if there are pathogens present in the air,” he said, “Whatever it is, it’s not toxic.”

You huffed, resisting the urge to pinch your nose. “Yeah? Well it fucking smells toxic.” A coo caught your attention, and you stopped dead, slowly turning to the child.

“Shit,” you said.

“It seems that way.”

“Oh shut up, Mando,” you said, but there was no heat in your voice, only growing panic, “I don’t even know how to change a diaper, does it even have one? Should we wash whatever it’s wearing and reuse it? Is that sanitary? Do we just rinse it off? Wait, what if it’s allergic to water? Or soap? What if it has some weird anatomy that I don’t know how to clean? What if it pees on me and it pees _acid? Mando! Stop laughing and help me!_ ” You grab the baby and take it the fresher, Mando following in a much more calm manner than you. Laying it down in the sink, you start to undress it, gagging a little as the smell intensifies. You feel a hot rush of shame; the two of you should have done this sooner.

You placed the soiled clothes aside and tested the water and soap on the baby, who didn’t react other than to continue to babble and coo. Sighing in relief, you cleaned him off thoroughly, Mando watching from the doorway. There wasn’t a lot of room in the fresher, it was definitely built with compactness in mind.

Your mind had stabilized once you started cleaning the baby, leaving you calmer than you’d been since you picked up the little kid.

“Hey Mando, I can’t believe I was so worried about this, this little boy’s hardly different than we are, just a lot greener,” you said brightly.

He didn’t move from his post and seemed too busy staring at the now clean child to respond. You grabbed your towel from the rack behind you and wrapped it - _him_ \- up, drying him gently. Mando spoke then, and it was so quiet the modulator almost didn’t pick it up.

“It’s a boy?”

You didn’t turn, continuing to dry the baby who cooed happily at being clean, simply saying, “Yes.”

The two of you didn’t talk for the rest of the night.


	4. A sin is committed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes through half of the events of episode 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to see a little bit of Din's perspective and start to learn a little more about the Reader's past. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, stay safe, stay healthy!

The landing on Nevarro was as smooth as any other landing Mando performed, but it didn’t stop your heart from pounding. Your meager belongings were packed up in a single large bag, which you shrugged over your shoulder as Mando lowered the ramp. You stood at his side and watched the ramp hit the floor with a sense of finality. Neither of you moved for a moment, just looking at the ground.

“Well!” you said, injecting cheer in your voice to disguise the weight in your chest, “It was a pleasure working with you Mando, I wish you all the best.” You stuck your hand out to him, and he stared at it before hesitantly reaching back, his grip firm but unmoving. 

Your smile turns sad and you turn to the floating pram behind the two of you, the child looking innocently at you and Mando. You turned quickly, unable to face him. You start to walk down the ramp, feeling Mando’s stare as you clamber down. Once your feet hit the dusty ground of Nevarro, you half-turned to give Mando your final parting words.

“You know, I always keep on my comlink,” you said, “Even though we’re parting ways here, that doesn’t mean I won’t answer it.”

You turned forward and once again set out on your own.

* * *

While working with Mando you were paid handsomely, as he had promised when he had first taken you onboard. You never spent too much money on things you didn’t need, especially since you were always on the move and the Crest had limited space on board, so you had accumulated a solid amount of savings. It was definitely enough to rent a room for a few days while you tried to find a new position or find transport off planet. 

You passed the cantina where you knew Greef Karga would be, most likely eagerly awaiting Mando’s arrival and his subsequent cut of the reward. You considered going in for a second before you decided against it - it would be way too awkward, even if you and Karga had a sort-of working relationship. Instead, you went straight for the lodging at the other end of town, taking the time to enjoy the walk and the fresh air. Living on the Crest for so long gave you an appreciation of natural air, even if it was dusty and hot, the heat sticking to your lungs and refusing to dissipate. 

Paying the woman at the front counter, you bought a room for one week, figuring that would be more than enough time to figure out where you were going from here. 

… Where _did_ you want to go from here? You could make your way back to Tatooine and visit your mother, you doubted she would have moved, especially since she had one of the only garages in Mos Eisley. The real question was whether or not she would want to see you.

You sighed and laid back against the bed, crossing your arms behind your head and staring at the ceiling. You wouldn’t blame her if she was still mad at you, the last time the two of you saw each other in person was when you had left to get your engineering certification almost a few years ago against her wishes. Despite the occasional holos back and forth, the two of you had barely spoken since. You didn’t mean to stay away so long, but after finishing up school and taking up Mando on his job offer you hardly had a day to yourself, let alone enough time to travel to Tatooine for a personal vacation. 

_Oh please_ , you thought, _you could’ve made time, you’re just a coward. You were a coward then -_

Your mind inexplicably went back to the little green child.

\- _and you’re a coward now_.

You yelled in frustration, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes so hard you saw sickly yellow sparks. 

_What is wrong with me? Why did I let Mando and the kid go so easily? What could I have done to stop all this, surely there was_ something _?_ _Could I have worded what I said differently to reach Mando? Is there any situation where he changes his mind? Ugh! You’re an idiot! This isn’t just Mando’s fault, it’s yours too! You helped him get the child and you let him go without more than a few arguments? What the hell is wrong with you? By now, Mando has given the Imps the baby._

You stilled at the thought.

_What is the Empire planning on doing to that baby? Why was he worth so much? He’s clearly from an endangered or unknown species, since no one seems to know what he is. What if they want to dissect him, or harvest him for parts? What if they want to eat him as some sort of fucked-up delicacy? What if they plan on putting him in a zoo? What if -_

Your heart stuttered in your chest, threatening to beat out of your ribs, your hand ghosted to your left hip, memories of a far away, but never forgotten pain - 

\- _they planned on selling him as a slave?_

You lurched up to a sitting position, taking a few steadying breaths. You never wanted to go home as much as you did just then, to talk to your mother again. Face to face. 

_Well, that settles that_. With a grim determination, you took out your datapad and began searching for travel off planet.

* * *

Mando realized he fucked up a little when he watched his only companion walk down the ramp of the Crest and effectively out of his life.

Mando realized he fucked up _a lot_ about three seconds after he left the Imp’s pseudo-stronghold, loot of Beskar weighing down his hand. 

_I followed the Guild Code,_ he thought, _that’s all_.

Somehow, that wasn’t as comforting as he thought it would be. 

With a sigh, he walked through the winding streets of Nevarro. He made his way underground, working through the maze with a practiced ease, heading straight to the Armorer. She was already kneeled at the table, as if she was anticipating his arrival. He went through the motions as she began to reshape the Beskar into a new, full cuirass, but his mind was elsewhere. He could not stop thinking of the child. That impossibly tiny green child that saved his life out on Arvala-7 with his strange powers. 

_It’s a little late for regrets_ , he thought to himself as he watched the Beskar melt under the intense heat, _there’s not much I can do about it now_. His mind went back to his ex-engineer, to her comlink number, and pushed down the thoughts before they could form fully. 

The thundering bangs of the hammered Beskar rattled his mind, bringing him back to the day of destruction of his homeworld. The explosions, the fire and smoke, _the droids_....

He held back a sigh of relief when the Armorer finished, presenting him with the new armor and whistling birds. He took them gratefully, _reverently_ , and made his way back to the cantina.

It was time for another job.

* * *

“Alright, looks like I’m going to Tatooine,” you said to yourself, setting down the datapad with the bright confirmation message cheerily wishing you safe travels. The flight wasn’t for another four days, so it looked like you had some serious time to kill and just about nowhere to go. Nevarro wasn’t known for its tourism, that was for sure.

You flopped onto your back and closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. Yet, even with a clear mind, the weight of guilt in your chest pressed you down. You had left a baby in the hands of the Empire.

You had committed a sin, and you didn’t know how you could make it right.

* * *

Mando walked up the ramp to the Razor Crest, puck in hand. He made quick work of the ramp and began the takeoff sequence.

_The quicker I can get out of here and back to work, the better_ , he thought as he reached for the final lever, only to stop dead when he noticed that lack of a ball bearing at the top of it. _The kid_ ….

_I left a child at the hands of the Empire_ , he thought, hand still poised over the lever _, I left a_ child _at the hands of the_ Empire _. Is there any excuse for that?_

He didn’t move, his emotions running rampant and drumming against his Beskar-clad chest. _What do I do? Is it possible for me to go back on the deal? To make my way in and take the child?_ The thought of leaving with both the child _and_ Beskar was satisfying, he had to admit. There was only one thing missing.

_You know, I always keep on my comlink. Even though we’re parting ways here, that doesn’t mean I won’t answer it._

Decision made, Din powered down the ship and took out his communicator, dialing one of the only codes he had committed to memory, hoping that she would answer. After a few tense moments, her voice filled the too-empty space of the Crest.

“ _Mando? Is everything okay?_ ” Her surprise was palpable, and he was relieved that she picked up.

“Where are you?” he started with, and winced at the awkward and aggressive opener.

“ _Uh… Tama’s Inn, but why do you want to know?_ ”

He grabbed his rifle and slung it around his shoulders, lowering the ramp to the Crest and making his way back into town.

“You were right,” he said simply, “I’ll be at Tama’s in a few minutes, we can talk more there.”

He had committed a sin, and while he wasn’t sure what he planned on doing would fix it, he knew it was one hell of a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: our dynamic duo will pull off a daring rescue!


	5. A daring rescue and successful escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes through the rest of Episode 3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting for this chapter! This chapter is longer than the previous chapters, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, I don't like using Y/N in stories like these if I can help it, but the reader will not remain nameless throughout this story either. I have a work-around that I think will work well, let me know what you think!
> 
> Stay healthy, and stay safe!

Your comm rang, you grabbed it off the nightstand and gasped when you saw Mando’s code flashing at you. 

Worry starting to build up, you picked up. “Mando? Is everything okay?”

His answer was quick, stated more as a command than a question. “ _Where are you?_ ”

_Where was I?_ You thought to yourself, confused. _Why would he need to know? Did I leave something on the ship that he’s trying to return? That can’t be worth a call. What does he want?_

“Uh… Tama’s Inn, but why do you want to know?”

“ _Y_ _ou were right._ ” You felt hope rise up so fast in your chest it _ached._ _Had Mando changed his mind? But why?_

“ _I’ll be at Tama’s in a few minutes, we can talk more there_.” A click, and then you were left alone in your room.

Running a hand through your hair in disbelief, you pressed a fist to your mouth to calm and center yourself. _Alright, Mando’ll need my exact location, let’s see what this is all about._ Bustling around the room with restless energy, you sent Mando a message with your room number and door code. Waiting for him, you started to wear a path in the dingy carpet of the motel room, pacing back and forth quickly and wringing your hands. Far too soon and not nearly soon enough, you heard the telltale clicks of a door code being punched in, and Mando hurried in. You could see his new armor, shiny and new and clearly skillfully made. The sight of it made anger and shame take root in your chest, but you had to admit it made the Mandalorian look even more deadly.

And yet, nothing in his demeanor now seemed very dangerous. He looked… unsure. You were sure you looked awfully similar.

You stopped pacing and faced him, watching as he looked at every part of the room but you. His arms swung a little at his sides, restless.

Patience was never a virtue of yours, and you didn’t want to be patient now. You decided to break the silence as soon as possible. “Mando - ”

“You were right,” he spoke at the same time you did, unintentionally interrupting you. Finally, he fully faced you, and you knew from the tilt of his visor that his eyes were now looking at you instead of the wallpaper.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “You were right. I shouldn’t have turned him in.” 

_Well, that was fast. It’s been less than two days_. You crossed your arms, tilting your head in confusion. “What brought this on? Judging by the new shiny armor you turned him over right away and cashed out. Why the sudden change of heart?”

He didn’t answer, but you suspected he didn’t know what to say. You sighed and looked away, your mind whirling. Deciding to push him a little, you say, “Seriously, I don’t get it. You already got what you wanted, where’s the benefit in doubling back and taking the quarry back?”

“It’s not about personal benefit,” he said, frustration painting his tone.

“Then what is it about?” you demand, “I tried to talk to you about this _before_ you turned the asset over, but you didn’t want to hear it. And now what? You’re having regrets? I hate to tell you this, but you’ve already accepted the reward and reshaped it, it’s a little late to be having regrets.”

Your words had made him agitated, compounding on the frustration he showed earlier. At first, he moved to answer you in anger, but then he paused, lowering his head and sighing low and long. He looked back up to you and said, “I _do_ have regrets. But, I don’t believe it’s too late to be having them.”

You stilled, and said quietly, “It could be.”

The insinuation wasn’t lost on the Mandalorian, and his shoulders tensed up, but he didn’t offer an argument. You both knew it was a possibility - after all, there was no life requirement.

The kid could already be dead.

Taking a deep, but shaky, breath, Mando took a step closer, squaring his shoulders and tilting his visor down ever so slightly. “I want to break him out and run.”

Oh, now _that_ was a dangerous plan, for the both of you and for the kid. Break into an Imperial stronghold and illegally (or was it legally?) kidnap a child? Break the Guild Code and become fugitives? And that’s assuming you can even pull it off and not die in the process. 

“I want you to come with me.”

Your heart stuttered at the statement, the back of your throat tightening. Putting the unbidden rise of emotion to the side for now, you thought more seriously about what he was proposing. You remembered the innocent look the baby had given you when you had left him on the Crest, and you knew that despite the risks, you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t try. _Question is, what backup can I offer? I can shoot well enough, but I’m not as effective when there’s a crowd of unfriendlies - my hand-to-hand is definitely lacking too. Should I act as the get-away driver? No, he may need whatever backup he can get against the troopers in there, especially if he’s carrying a baby out. How many soldiers were even in there?_

Mando must’ve interpreted your initial silence as trepidation, because he kept talking, a little quicker than normal.

“I understand if you don’t want to do this,” he said, “It is dangerous, and you have no obligation to help me.”

You laughed tiredly and shook your head, “No obligation? I messed up, just like you did Mando.” He leaned forward to start talking again and you held up a hand to stop whatever he was about to say. “Save it, neither of us are blameless in this. I rationalized giving up on the kid, and you rationalized turning him in; there is no justification for what we did.”

You didn’t need to hear anymore. You had already made your decision, had made it as soon as you got the call from him.

You dropped your hand, and spoke in uncharacteristic seriousness. “Of course I’ll help you, Mando.” He looked up sharply, and you could hear him breathe in harshly through his vocoder. You continued, “But this doesn’t absolve all guilt. This kid will need a guardian, protection. He will need someone to take care of him. Are you really up for the task?”

Mando stood back up to his full height and gave you a phrase that sounded more like a vow.

“This is the Way.”

You grinned savagely, and you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. 

“This is the Way. Now c’mon, Mando, let’s go get this kid!”

* * *

Mando knew enough about the stronghold to launch an assault, but not enough to make you feel good about it. The two of you were scoping out the area, Mando using the tech on his helmet to get a read on heat signatures and listen in on any conversation.

“There are about a dozen stormtroopers, as well as the client and the doctor. The kid is in the center of the building.”

You nodded, your hand tapping nervously on your blaster. Earlier, you had brought the Crest as close as possible to the building without arousing suspicion in an attempt to make this escape as smooth as possible, but it still felt so far away. Even if you all managed to make it outside for the final mad dash to the ship, if you ran out of there with stormtroopers and Imperial officers on your tail, you’d draw way too much attention to yourselves. No, everyone in that stronghold had to be incapacitated, and they had to incapacitated quickly and quietly.

“I’m ready when you are,” you told him nervously, still fiddling with the blaster at your side. He nodded, and the two of you made your way down to the entrance and into the stronghold. He motioned for you to stay just around the corner from the entrance; you watched as he knocked loudly, only to rip out the camera droid, destroying it in a shower of sparks. He quickly made his way back to you, hardly making a sound.

_Wow, that armor is deceptively quiet,_ you thought as you watched the first round of stormtroopers exit the building and begin to patrol. _That or Mando is freakishly good at walking quietly. Maybe it’s the Beskar? Does Beskar naturally have less friction than durasteel?_ You followed two steps behind Mando as you walked to the side of the building and blew open a new entrance using a sticky bomb (Maker, what had Mando called those stupid things?), clouding the lobby in smoke. _Smoke provides good cover for at least thirty minutes, but can take hours to completely leave a room, assuming there is no filtration system -_

_Focus!_ You stuck behind Mando, listening out for more stormtroopers while you both stealthily made your way to the center of the building, Mando sticking to the left side of the hall while you stuck to the right. Two troopers were the first on the scene, passing by you and Mando without noticing. While they struggled to peer through the smokescreen, Mando shot them both down. When a third entered the room, you quickly took aim and shot him down too. 

Rounding the corner, Mando held out his arm to stop you from going forward, quickly getting on a knee to grapple in another trooper who had his back turned, stabbing him with a vibroblade. You winced at the sound he made, but continued forward.

You both got to the door the last stormtrooper was guarding; Mando quickly turned to face you and gave you a single nod. You nodded back and held your blaster at the ready. He shot out the controls and the door flew open, revealing another stormtrooper, a scrawny man in glasses and -

_The kid!_ You would’ve ran forward if not for the pitiful fight the trooper was still putting up. Mando quickly dispatched him, but not without taking a blaster shot to the Beskar. Once he was done, Mando rushed in, blaster raised, but you quickly put yours away to get to the green child. You ran over to the table he was laying on, but he gave no indication of consciousness.

“Please don’t hurt him!” the man said, clearly panicking at the sight of the furious Mandalorian and the blaster in his face, “It’s just a child!”

You ignored him, and started taking stock of the kid’s condition. His mouth was open, and his tiny lips moved as he breathed. You sighed shakily when you saw the clear sign of life; you and Mando hadn’t been too late. You hoped.

“Hey kiddo,” you said softly, your voice trembling as you picked him up and swaddled him as gently as possible, tucking his ears into the blanket and shielding him with your arms. While you did this, you could hear the doctor pathetically begging for his life. 

“ _What did you do to it?_ ” you heard Mando demand, jabbing his blaster towards the cowering man.

“I protected him! I protect him!” Maker, the guy sounded near tears at this point. You would have felt bad for him if he wasn’t experimenting on children. “If it wasn’t for me he would already be dead!”

While he continued to cower and babble for his life, Mando turned your way and gestured for you to follow him quickly. You were surprised that he decided to spare the doctor’s life, but there wasn’t any time to ponder over that decision; the three of you needed to get out, and get out _now_. 

You were on Mando’s heels, hyperfocused on his movements so you could change course at a moment’s notice. When he sidestepped to hide behind a stack of crates, you mirrored him, clutching the child to your chest and cradling his head. You could feel the baby start to move around a little, turning his head slightly as if he was trying to look around. You rubbed a circle into his back, willing him to stay still and quiet as you made your way out of the stronghold.

Getting out of the building proved more difficult than getting in, but it was advantageous having both of you there. You could still shoot with one hand while Mando was free to go all-out, making quick work of the troopers. By the end of it, the three of you were back in the streets of Nevarro, a trail of dead stormtroopers behind you and freedom only a couple hundred yards away. It was difficult not to rush, to look casual, but you schooled your expression and dutifully followed Mando’s pace back to the Razor Crest.

The child was whimpering against your shoulder, and you gently shushed to him, trying to comfort him while keeping him quiet. Mando was tense, you could tell even beneath all the armor, but he kept up a casual walk quite admirably. You saw the Crest at the end of the street you were on, and your heart began pounding, willing time to move faster so you all could get off the planet…

You instinctively stopped when Greef Karga stepped right in front of your path, his Guild bounty hunters surrounding the three of you. 

“Fuck,” you said under your breath. Stepping forward to be at Mando’s side, you put on an easy smile and called out to Karga. “Hey Karga!”

“Ah, the nameless engineer,” Karga said humorlessly. You didn’t miss the way his hand slowly moved to rest on his blaster, and judging by the way Mando tensed even further, you know he didn’t miss it either. You hastily made a plan to distract Karga long enough to get Mando time to formulate his own plan, one that hopefully could get all three of you out of here in one piece.

You knew what you were about to do was stupid and definitely wouldn’t work long, but desperation called for any attempt to get out here without a shoot-out. So, lightly bouncing the baby that was still completely covered by the blanket you wrapped him in, you bantered a bit with Karga.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” you said brightly, rubbing a circle into the baby’s back to sooth it and try to shield it from the bounty hunters that were surrounding you. “You know how busy Mando has been, we’ve hardly had any time for ourselves!” You chuckled, gesturing your head to the still Mandalorian next to you, “It took me an hour to convince this hunk of junk to take a walk with me and Mando Jr., so, if you don’t mind - ”

“Engineer,” Karga said sharply, stopping your pathetic attempt at stalling in its tracks. “Drop the package and maybe we’ll let you walk away.”

_Package? It’s a child!_ You thought to yourself, but didn’t let the rush of anger color your expression. Mando still hadn’t moved, so you decided to try and play with this stupid angle one more time.

“Package? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Engineer,” Greef Karga said, and you could tell he was starting to get angry. He wrapped his hand around the handle of his blaster, and you swallowed nervously.

You leaned in toward Mando and whispered, “I’m quickly running out of ideas here, Mando.”

He sighed, and addressed Karga. “Step aside, we’re going to my ship.”

Karga laughed at him, and made it clear that there was no way he was going to let you leave with the child. “Put the bounty down, and perhaps I’ll let you pass.”

You decided to try one last ditch attempt to reason with him before shit hit the fan. “Karga, listen to me,” you said seriously, “I know this goes against the Guild code, but we’re talking about the life of an innocent _baby_ , surely there can be an exception for special cases?”

His stony expression didn’t shift at your words, but he did dignify you with a response. “If I let you both go, what’s to stop other bounty hunters from doing the same? Taking the reward and then doubling dipping by taking away the very thing that brought them that wealth? There would be no integrity in the Guild.”

“Integrity?” you asked sarcastically, anger boiling in your chest against the still whimpering child, “Is that what working with the Empire is? An act of integrity?” You’ll ignore the hypocrisy of your statement for now, you were desperate to reach Karga. 

“Enough of this nonsense,” Karga said, pulling his blaster out, but keeping it by his side. “Hand over the package.”

You didn’t make a move, and neither did Mando. Karga charged up his blaster, and you tighten your arms around the child. Mando subtly nodded to the speeder bike next to you, and you caught on immediately, sighing slowly and lowered your head to signal you were ready when he was. Within a flash, he was shooting at Karga while you dove into the speeder, quickly making room for Mando when he spun into it immediately after you. Blaster fire was soaring above head, you could feel it singe your hair when it brushed too close.

Mando pushed your head down and urgently said, “Don’t move.” He reached up to his right wrist and activated what looked like a glowing blue triangle. He stuck his wrist into the air and with a quick jolt, a horrible whistling sound filled the air, followed by an even more horrible series of screams and thuds as bounty hunters dropped like flies. Whatever Mando had just done certainly thinned the herd, but there were still shots flying around. 

Not stopping for a second, Mando pointed his blaster at the droid at the end of the speeder demanding it to move, charging up the blaster when it didn’t immediately obey. As the speeder began making its way to the Crest, Mando continued to shoot while you moved up to take a peek at the situation. The bounty hunters were too scared to step out from cover, the only one out in the open was Karga, whose arm was arcing to point at the droid piloting the speeder - 

Before you could think you surged forward, your right arm positioned to block the shot that would’ve stranded the two of you in the middle of all this madness. You couldn’t stop the hoarse yell that you let out, your sleeve smoking and arm burning something _fierce_. You fell back as you saw Mando shoot Karga in the chest, the older man falling back and staying down. The speeder resolutely made its way to the _Crest_. Mando continued to lay fire down as you approached, and you took a moment to check on the child, whose eyes were open but looked exhausted. You ran your left hand across his forehead, staring up at the _Crest_ and willing the speeder to move faster.

As soon as you were at the foot of the ship, Mando reached down and pulled you up, unwittingly grabbing the arm that was injured since your good arm was clutching the child tightly to your side. You hissed at the pain but didn’t stop moving. _You can rest when you’re in the air, just get on the ship now!_

“Start the launch sequence!” he yelled at you while he held off the slowly approaching bounty hunters. You ran up the ramp and rocketed up the ladder to the cockpit, gently placing the child on the co-pilot’s chair while you tried to get through the sequence as quickly as possible one-handed, your right arm burning and your hand twitching uselessly. You could hear the sound of blaster fire and yelling, the ship minutely shaking as the Guild tried to damage the ship.

“Idiots,” you scoffed, flipping the new set of switches, “Do they think their shitty blasters can dent this thing after all the work I put into it?”

Hearing thundering metallic footsteps and the groan of the ship closing the hatch, you quickly moved to pick up the child and get in the co-pilot’s chair while Mando rushed in, taking the controls. You grunted in pain when you tried to raise your right arm to strap yourself in, your left arm being preoccupied with the little green child. Shaking your head resolutely, you braced your legs against the floor and pushed yourself back into the chair, hoping the takeoff wasn’t rough enough to toss you around.

Mando, being the experienced pilot he was, efficiently and almost smoothly took the _Crest_ into the air and above the clouds, the sound of blaster fire dinging off the bottom of the ship slowing as you climbed out of range.

* * *

The two of you remained tense for several minutes after you went into hyperspace, Mando taking the time to throw the trail as much as possible by zigzagging.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Mando sighed and turned his helmet to the ceiling, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders. He slowly turned his head towards you, and from that angle he must have been looking at you from the corner of his eye. You were still tense, but before you could stop yourself, a giggle fell from your lips. You shut your mouth immediately, but the slow tilt of his head got you, and before you could stop, you were laughing full-heartedly, your chest filled with the brightest feeling now that you, Mando, and the child were out of harm’s way.

He didn’t move and didn’t join in, but you didn’t care. The child cooed from your lap, staring up at you and seemed too tired to join in in your insane relief-filled merriment. The kid smiled nonetheless, and you smiled back down at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” you said, still laughing a little, “I can’t believe that worked. I’m glad we all got out in one piece.”

While you spoke, the child slowly sat in your lap, leaning back and looking up at Mando. Mando, without missing a beat, unscrewed the metal ball bearing and held it out to you to grab for the kid. 

You instinctively reached with your right hand, and hissed when you jostled the blaster wound. Mando immediately sat up, absently handing the ball to the child and gently turning your arm over, exposing the burned sleeve and the blood that was beginning to crust on your skin.

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” he asked you seriously, but didn’t wait around for an answer before heading down the ladder. You heard him riffling around in the supplies, but shrugged and began stroking a small circle into the child’s brow as he chewed on the metal ball. The child leaned further back into you, eyes closed and breathing slowing. You smiled softly, and looked up when Mando stormed back in with the medkit.

“We’re out of bacta,” he said, and he sounded irritated at the fact.

You hummed in acknowledgement, “Yeah, I used the last of it on you after the bounty on Dantooine. We were supposed to pick up more, but it looked like it slipped both our minds.” You shrugged sheepishly. “It’s okay, the blaster was set to stun, not kill.”

Mando tensed and you could feel his gaze through the visor. “Does it hurt?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, but - ”

“Then it’s not okay.” His voice was quiet and intensely serious.

You blinked at the sudden rebuttal, and slowly nodded. “Fair point.” You gestured to the sleepy child in your lap and asked, “Can you put this little guy somewhere so we can patch this up quickly?”

Mando nodded once and picked up the now slumbering kid, quietly cradling him and moving down the ladder. While he was gone, you rifled through the medkit. It had a lot of supplies, but it looked like most of it wouldn’t be helpful.

_Shit. No bacta, no burn cream. I can sew the laceration shut and clean it with soap and water, again with alcohol later down the road, but that’ll hurt something terrible._ You rifled further and sighed. _No pain medication either. Lovely. At least I can sanitize it and wrap it in gauze until we can find more supplies._ Your mind wandered, and you remembered your limited medical training that came with your engineering certification. The voice of your stern teacher filled your mind as you inspected the burn on your forearm. _Remember trainees! Burns are a commonplace workplace accident when working on ships - be properly vigilant and assume all metal is hot enough to burn and you might be able to avoid the worst of it. Always wear gloves and keep a temperature gauge on hand._ You had spaced out for a while that class, but had tuned back in when the teacher’s voice had lowered, signifying the seriousness of what she was about to say. _Burns, while the most commonplace accidents and can be serious, there is another, albeit less common workplace accident that can occur -_

“Hey.” You jumped at Mando’s voice, looking up to see him standing at the entrance to the cockpit.

“Hey! Sorry,” you said, embarrassed, “Just thinking.” You waved him over and started pulling out bits of supplies from the kit. “There’s no burn cream, but I think we can wash it with soap and cold water, sew it shut, and sanitize it tomorrow with the isopropyl alcohol.”

Mando moved to gently start pushing your sleeve up, fully exposing your arm. You breathed out slowly, trying not to flinch when the fabric rubbed against your arm. Looking at it now, it didn’t seem so bad; there was a nasty burn and a two inch laceration which only sluggishly bled. It hurt like mad, but burns can continue to hurt for hours after you got them. _Now class, burns can continue to burn even if you are no longer in contact with heat, the energy had already been transferred and needs time to dissipate_ \- 

You made your way to the fresher, Mando following close behind. You turned the sink on, letting the water chill before slowly placing your arm under the stream.

“Fuck, that stings,” you said tensely, forcing yourself to keep your arm underneath the water. Mando said nothing, leaning against the doorframe and watching you rinse the dirt out of the cut and the skin around the burn. You sighed and reached for the liquid soap, pumping a small amount into your left hand and trying to work up the courage to actually clean out the cut and burn.

You turned to joke with the Mandalorian, “You know, this reminds me of the time I was shot in the arm by the big, ugly, _uppity_ Hutt. Did I ever tell you about it?”

He huffed, but you think it might’ve been a laugh. “Only three times.”

You laughed and shot back, “Be grateful it was only three times, I’m really proud of that scar! And you should’ve seen the other guy by the time I was done with him.”

Before you could lose your nerve, you started massaging soap into the cut on your arm, gasping in pain and pausing for a second to let the stinging sensation settle. You saw Mando move a little, but you ignored it and slowly kept cleaning until you were sure you got the dirt and dust out. Rinsing out the soap, you reached for a towel and patted the injury dry.

“I’ll need your help sewing this up,” you said, “I’m not sure I can do it one-handed.”

“Of course,” he said. He sat you down at the small table near the kitchen and made quick work sewing. It hurt, but not as bad as you expected. Soon, he was finished and you silently passed him the gauze, which he used to wrap your arm. 

While he wrapped it tight, he quietly spoke. “Thank you for helping me.”

You smiled. “It was no problem, Mando. I’m happy it all worked out.” 

He finished wrapping, and stared at your arm for a moment before releasing you. You were content to sit in silence for a while, resting your arm on the table and gently testing your fingers. All still worked, it just hurt to use them. _Looks like I might have to work one-handed for a while_. 

“Back then,” Mando said suddenly, then paused, as if trying to find a way to word what he wanted to say.

After a moment, you prompted him, “Back then…?”

“Karga called you ‘nameless engineer’,” he said slowly, but then petered off and didn’t continue.

You smirked at him and said coyly, “Is this your way of asking for my name? If you recall, you didn’t give me _your_ name when we started working together, so I didn’t give you mine.”

“Yes,” he said, “I remember. But I gave you something to call me by.”

You laughed a little and responded. “Yeah, ‘Mando’. I told you if I was basically going to call you ‘Mandalorian’ it was only fair that you called me ‘Engineer’.”

He shifted in his chair self-consciously, and said, “‘Mando’ is more of a nickname. ‘Engineer’ is not.” He paused for a moment before saying, “It doesn’t seem fair to you.”

You were surprised. _He wanted to call you by a nickname?_ The thought was strangely sweet, and you appreciated that he didn’t outright ask for your actual name, especially since he wasn’t comfortable giving you his.

You looked at him, and noticed that he was staring at the far wall and not meeting your gaze, and you thought he might be shy after bringing up such a topic. You chuckled to yourself, _What a big metal softie_. After a few minutes of silence, you decided to give him a small piece of your past, a subject that neither of you have truly breached since you started working together.

“Scraps.”

He turned to you, head tilted in confusion. You continued, explaining, “I don’t go by my birth name. My mother gave me the nickname ‘Scraps’.” You blushed and looked away, and before you could lose your nerve you said, “You can call me that if you don’t want to call me ‘Engineer’.”

After a moment, he tested it out, and the sound of your childhood nickname in his familiar raspy voice brought an embarrassed smile to your face, which you could feel was burning with a huge blush.

Thankfully, the child decided then to start cooing loudly, asking for attention. Mando was quick to stand up to get him, and you were thankful for the privacy. Your face was burning red, and you took a moment to scrub your hand down it and try to keep your heart from racing.

_Maker, all you did was give him your nickname, why are you freaking out?_ You sighed slowly, trying to lower your heart rate. _It’s not that much information, and hardly worth being such a weirdo about. Besides, this should improve our communication; now he can directly address me in a less awkward way_. _You need to chill_.

Mando walked in with the child, who caught sight of you and held out his little arms.

“Scraps?” he said hesitantly, and sounded so unsure it filled you with some unnameable emotion and made your heart stutter again, “I think he wants to see you.”

Your blush was back full force, but you nodded while avoiding his eyes and held out your left arm. “Alright, give me the little guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I am not abandoning this story! (Especially since it is one of my escapes from zoom school...)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Interlude to Sorgan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an interlude between episodes 3 and 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting! School has tough, but I'm happy to update this fic whenever I can!
> 
> I hope you all are doing well; stay safe!

Well, it looks like you and Mando were criminals now. Outer Rim Outlaws, living life on the edge, on the run from the Guild and the old Empire, fighting everyday from now until your untimely and mostly likely disgustingly messy demises - 

“Stop splashing.” Mando’s deadpan voice carried down the hall from the refresher, along with some sweet giggles and the sound of water hitting the metal floor. You headed towards them to see Mando slowly getting soaked with water while he tried to bath the flailing green child.

You leaned against the doorway and said, “I hope you have another pair of gloves, those ones look absolutely drenched.” You paused and looked up to the ceiling in thought. “Wait, do you have another pair of gloves? I’ve never seen you wear a different style. Do you have multiples of the same pair of gloves?” Mando ignored you and continued washing the child. “C’mon, Mando, this is important information, I have to know!”

He sighed wearily, giving you a simple, “Just the one pair.” Picking the child up out of the sink, he wrapped him in a towel and passed him off to you. You carefully held him with your left arm, the right one was still difficult to use, each twitch of your fingers sending lines of pain up through your forearm to your elbow. _We need to find more medical supplies, and definitely stock up on more pain medication_.

“I’m going to find us a place to lie low for a while,” Mando said as he flicked some water off his gloves and into the sink, “Can you dress him alright?”

You nodded, and he stalked off to the cockpit. The baby’s clothes consisted of an underwrap and his little tunic, so all in all it wasn’t too bad to manage. When you were finished, the baby made that adorable ribbiting chirp and looked up at you with a smile filled with tiny sharp teeth. 

Maker, he was so _cute_! You picked him back up and quickly made your way up the ladder and into the cockpit. Mando was halfway through charting a path, so he must’ve already found a planet to land on.

He glanced up when you walked in, and then pulled up a holo of a planet covered in greenery (or what you assumed was greenery, the holo was entirely blue). 

“Sorgan,” he said, gesturing to the unassuming planet, “It doesn’t have a large population density, major trading route, major ports, nothing. It’s a real backwater scughole. We should be able to stay here undetected for a few months.”

You nodded, “It sounds perfect.” The child in your arm made a quiet _ribbit_ , getting the Mandalorian’s attention, holding out one of his clawed hands.

He reached up and grabbed the child’s hand between two fingers, “Are you ready to stretch your legs, you little womp rat?” The kid closed his three-fingered hand around Mando’s fingers in response, the smile stayed fixed on his little face. Mando tilted his head up to you and said, “We’ll be there in a day.”

You nodded and responded with a quick, “Understood, captain.” You slowly passed the kid back to Mando. “Alright, I’m going to see if there’s any work that needs to be done on the ship. I’ll take the first shift, just let me know when you’re ready to rest and I’ll watch the navigation.” You looked back to the kid, who was trying his hardest to reach the propulsion lever, and quickly added, “And I’ll watch the kid.”

Mando nodded and said a succinct, “Thank you.”

You walked back down the ladder and made your way to the cargo hold of the ship; this is where the most of damage would’ve been taken during the escape, and while you can’t take a look at the outside until you land, you can check the wiring and see if anything had shorted or burned or just aged poorly and needed to be fixed or replaced. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your pair of grease-stained gloves, only bothering to slip the left one on since you didn’t think much work needed to be done anyways. Removing one plate after another, you examined the wiring and other components, ensuring there were no leaks or other potentially disastrous failures. Nothing seemed too damaged, certainly not more than usual, and you were glad that you hadn’t sustained any critical damage while getting shot at. The outside of the ship, though… that could be another story, but you didn’t think you would have any significant amount of trouble cleaning it up if there were problems. 

You put the metal grates back up and screwed them in. _Looks like I’ll have to find something else to do for the next twenty or so hours_.

You put your glove back in your pocket and made your way to the kitchenette. The wall-mounted clock in there told you it was 20:00, a bit later than you had thought, but it was always a struggle to keep time in space. There was no star to orbit, no difference between night and day, no way to truly keep track of the passage of time.

Opening a few drawers, you began to pull ingredients out to make dinner. _Wait,_ you thought, _Mando usually goes to get some shut-eye at 21:00 when I have the first watch. I can double this so he can take it to his quarters and go right to bed. Two birds!_

You paused for a moment, coming to a quick realization. _The kid. What does he eat? He has pointy teeth, so he is most likely carnivorous, since herbivores have more square teeth for grinding, not canines for ripping. Then again, I didn’t get a good look at his whole mouth, maybe he’s an omnivore? Or maybe his home planet had some weird fucked-up vegetation that required sharp teeth to rip apart? Does the kid have any food allergies? Or allergies at all? How can I figure this out without potentially poisoning him?_ You put a fist to your mouth and thought over the options. _I can lay out little pieces of different things, see what he goes for, what his biology tells him to eat, and then have him sample little things from there. Establish a baseline, but err on the side of caution._

You sighed and pulled out the remaining fresh food you had on hand. There were still vegetables and dried meat, it would be easy to make a broth and stick all of it in there for you and Mando. For the kid, you set aside small pieces of vegetables and meat and made a plain bone broth with nothing in it. _No choking hazards for the little guy. Hold on a minute, how do you give the Heimlich maneuver to a baby? Would the Heimlich work on him? Is his internal anatomy close enough to a human’s to assume it’ll work?_

You could feel a panic building in your chest. _Dear Maker_. You weren’t prepared to take care of a baby, let alone one of a different species. You took a few slow breaths while you cooked, trying to keep your mind calm, but you were failing as old memories and new thoughts took over. 

_I’ve never taken care of a baby before, never even babysat. My only experience with parenting is_ being _parented - even then, my record isn’t exactly stellar._ Your thoughts became more melancholy as you thought about your parents. _Maybe we didn’t have enough time together for them to teach me this sort of thing. Where are all those Maker-be-damned maternal instincts that everyone talks about? Do I have any? If not, can I get some? Please? I’m not below begging._

Your thoughts turned back to your mother on Tatooine, and you once again felt a childish desire to ask her for advice, to tell her what you had gotten yourself into. _She took me in and did a great job raising me and taking care of me, even after…_ You breath hitched, and you quickly steered your mind away from that line of thinking. _Moving on. She didn’t have any children before then, but she always seemed to know what to do, what to say. Maybe talking to her isn’t such a bad idea._ You still knew her comm-code, it would be easy to send a transmission from the Crest.

_But could that lead the Guild to us?_ You paused your stirring, watching the stew slowly bubble as it heated. _No one knows about my connections to her or to Tatooine, but if someone intercepts a call from the Crest and I tell her about the kid, that could put her and us in danger._ You sighed, turning off the heat and pouring portions of the food into a few bowls, putting the baby’s broth into a small cup you thought he might be able to hold and pick up. _Looks like I’ll just have to figure this shit out as I go. Sorry, Mom, looks like we won’t be able to talk for a little while._

You left the steaming food on the table and made your way up to the cockpit. Mando had the child on his knee and was letting him gnaw on his glove, his sharp teeth poking out.

“Ew, Mando, don’t let him do that! Those gloves are apparently your only pair and are probably disgusting,” you teased him as you walked in. Mando looked up at you in greeting. You gestured downstairs and said, “I made some food, ready to take a break?”

“Yes,” he said, relieved, and headed towards the ladder. Before he started making his way down, he paused and turned, offering a simple, “Thanks.”

Your smile came easy. “Anytime.”

You followed him out and took the child from him while he grabbed his food and made his way to his room. The _hiss_ and _click_ of his door shutting and locking sounded from around the corner. You looked at the little green thing and said, “Well? Are you hungry? Want to try some food?”

You don’t think the child understood too much of what you were saying, but he also seemed pretty eager to be sat down in front of his meal. You gently placed him on the tabletop, the chairs were too low for him to be able to sit and also see his food. _Note to self: construct a high chair._ You gently put the cup in front of him and watched him slowly pick it up and sip the broth. You sighed in relief when he didn’t spontaneously combust. He kept sipping, looking around the kitchenette, his ears turning this way and that, most likely listening to the creaking sounds that the Crest made as it travelled through hyperspace. He made eye contact with you at times, and the innocence in his stare pulled at your heartstrings in a way completely unfamiliar to you.

“Alright, kid, let’s try a few other things,” you said, picking up a small piece of meat and holding it in front of him. He gently grabbed it with one hand, examining it with much intensity before putting it in his mouth and eating it with no problems. He even began to move towards the other pieces you left out for him. You laughed and gently sat him back down, pushing the pieces in front of him. He ate pretty cleanly for a little guy, barely making a mess and not spilling any significant amount of the broth. Getting him to try some of the vegetables was harder, but you found that he could eat those as well without too much attitude. 

You ate and watched the kid to make sure he didn’t choke on anything. When he caught your eye again you smiled and reached your hand out to stroke his ear. “You know, it’s nice having someone to eat with.” The kid didn’t really understand what you were saying, but leaned into your touch and paid attention when you spoke again. “On my home planet, it was considered bad luck to eat by yourself.” You laughed and ruffled the peach fuzz on top of his head. “Looks like you’ll be my good luck charm from now on.”

You hadn’t spoken about your home planet in years, but there was something comforting in knowing that the kid couldn’t really understand what you were saying or relay the information back to anyone else. Still, mentioning personal details like this always made your heart race uncomfortably, and you quietly wondered if it would ever not feel that way.

“It was a small planet, very mountainous.” You sighed and rested your head in your hand. “I don’t know if anyone lives there anymore….” You trailed off and didn’t say anything else.

The kid alternated between looking at you and sipping his broth. Once he finished, it was clear that it was bedtime for him, if the drooping ears and half-lidded eyes were any indication.

“C’mon, kid, let’s get you to bed,” you said before realizing that you no longer had the pram. It had been trashed when the kid was given over to the Imps. _Note to self: construct another pram_. “Fuck, looks like you’re sleeping in the cockpit with me, I’ll figure something out buddy.”

You grabbed one of the thicker blankets you kept on hand in case the heater in the Crest malfunctioned (which was _never_ , you might add, you were too good at your job to let something like that happen if you could help it), and quickly folded it until it made a soft padding you could lay on the floor next to the pilot’s chair. Setting the child down and bundling him lightly in the thick blanket, he quickly fell asleep, tuckered out from the last couple of days.

Sighing when you sat down, you realized you really had nothing to do for the next six or so hours. When you took the first shift, Mando usually slept from 21:00 until 03:00, letting you sleep from 03:00 until 09:00. It wasn’t a system you two had to use too often, but you knew that both of you were still jumpy from everything that went down on Nevarro. The last thing either of you needed was an ambush en route or a computer malfunction to bring you to the middle of nowhere. Or even worse, to the middle of a populated system where the Guild or the New Republic was thriving. 

You checked to make sure the kid was still sleeping, then quietly made your way to your quarters to grab your data pad. If nothing else, you could buy a digital book and spend the next few hours reading, get distracted, and then never finish it.

* * *

“Hey.”

Mando’s voice was raspier than usual, he probably had just woke up and immediately headed up here to switch out. You stood up and let him take your place in the pilot’s chair, momentarily taking a seat in the copilot’s seat.

“Morning, Mando. Sleep well?” you asked. He hummed a yes and checked the navigation.

“We should be there later this afternoon. Go ahead and get some sleep, I’ll handle it up here,” Mando said, taking a look at the still slumbering child next to his chair.

You sighed tiredly and nodded, “Gotcha. Thanks.” As you stood up slowly and made your way to the ladder, you said, “I think I’ll try to build the little guy another pram once we get to Sorgan, it’ll definitely make bedtime easier.”

He nodded, and you continued talking as you climbed down. “And a high chair, that baby is freakishly short.”

You could hear his quiet huff of laughter, and smiled to yourself as you headed to bed.

* * *

_“Scraps! Come on, it’s time to go home.”_

_You turned away from your friends and saw your mother waiting up the street, her hand extended and waiting to grab onto yours. You turned when you heard some of your friends laughing at the silly nickname._

_“Yeah, ‘scraps’,” one of the boys jeered good-naturedly, “It’s time to go home!”_

_You huffed and jeered back, “Shut up, only my ‘mina gets to call me that.” You quickly waved goodbye and bounded up the street, grabbing onto your mother’s hand._

_“Did you have a good time?” she asked as you started walking back home._

_“Yeah!” you informed happily, “Did you have a good day too?”_

_She smiled and squeezed your hand, “Yeah, I got a lot of work done. I can show you what I finished when we get back home to Babbo.”_

_You smiled and nodded, then asked, “Did Babbo fix the door like he said he would?”_

_Your mother gave you such an unimpressed look that it made you break out in loud giggles. Your Mammina shook her head and teased your father, saying, “I swear, your Babbo can forget anything, I have no idea how he survived without us.”_

_She leaned down and brought your clasped hands to her face, quickly kissing the back of your small hand with a wry smile on her face._

* * *

You woke up a little later than you intended, the dream hazily floating in your mind. You didn’t get up for a few minutes, thinking back to that insignificant summer afternoon from so long ago. _I haven’t thought about those times in so long. What brought this on? Maybe it was talking to the kid the other night._ Speaking of the child, you could hear some quiet babbling floating down from the cockpit. To your surprise, you could also hear Mando talking back to the kid. 

Putting the old memories aside for now, you quickly got up and headed to the refresher, slowly stripping off the gauze on your arm so you could shower and clean the wound again. Quickly cleaning up and redressing the wound (which seemed to be healing quickly, and thankfully with no signs of infection), you put on fresh clothes, this time opting to wear a simple mechanic’s uniform with enough pockets to carry all the crap you always seemed to have on you. _Maker, all I’m missing is a name-tag and I could be back at the garage_.

You decided to skip the kitchenette and headed straight for the cockpit, where the other two occupants of the ship were in the middle of an intense conversation.

“And then what?” you heard Mando say with exaggerated interest. The child continued to babble to him. “That’s very interesting.”

You didn’t want to unintentionally embarrass him, so you decided to make some noise coming up the ladder so he knew you were there. You saw Mando had moved the blankets to the co-pilot’s chair and the child was standing in the middle of a blanket nest. The baby turned in your direction when you stepped forward, looking at you curiously when you reached down to pick him up.

“That’s my seat, pal. Sorry, you’re being evicted.” You pushed the blanket to the floor and settled in the chair, placing the child on your lap. He looked adorably affronted by the switch, but seemed to accept it with some convincing in the form of a little head massage.

“How much longer until we’re there?” you asked Mando, who turned his attention from the navigation to answer.

“Another hour. How’s the arm?”

“Better!” you said, upbeat. You gave a few experimental movements, “Still smarts a bit, but it feels much better.”

“Good,” he said, and reached over to adjust the controls. The child watched him flip switches and depress buttons and was transfixed by the flashing lights on the dash. You ruffled the tiny hairs on the top of his head affectionately and waited in companionable silence as you approached Sorgan.


	7. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes through the beginning of episode 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the night off and couldn't wait to finish this chapter! I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I hope you all enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy!

Sorgan was… well, a real back-water scughole.

Flying over it, it was obvious that there were only a few small settlements scattered about the heavily forested land and there was probably no quick way to get between any of them. It would be difficult to fly the ship low, and _definitely_ no way to safely ride a speeder through the dense foliage even if there were speeders on this rinky-dink planet.

“Wow, you really know how to pick ‘em, Mando,” you joked as he started to slow to a hover and land the Crest.

He replied, “It’ll work for now. We need to find lodging and start stocking back up on supplies. There was a small town about three miles east, that’s probably our best bet.” The three of you landed and made your way to the ramp, watching it slowly touch down on the forest floor.

“Ready to go little one?” you asked the child as you bounced him on your arm. As you all walked down, the kid was animatedly looking around the forest. He quickly began to struggle in your arms to be put down. Obliging, the two of you slowed your pace to match the child’s tiny, adorable hobbling.

“Maybe he’s more of a toddler than a baby,” you said to Mando as you watched the child step over branches in his way, “He walks a lot better than I was expecting.” Mando hummed an acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything. You continued, “He doesn’t have shoes, and doesn’t seem to be bothered by the rougher ground, so I imagine his species doesn’t typically wear shoes. That, and his skin is tougher that ours overall, so I can’t imagine it’s uncomfortable to walk on such rough terrain. Have you taken a close look at the claws he has on his hands and feet? I wonder if it’s for climbing or for hunting. What sorts of things would they hunt, though, if they did hunt? He did eat meat when I offered it to him, and seemed to prefer it to vegetables - ”

“Scraps,” Mando said a little exasperated, interrupting your thoughts, but then he stopped as if a thought had occurred to him suddenly, “Wait, what _does_ he need to eat?”

You excitedly gestured to him and emphatically said, “ _Thank you_! I was freaking out about it yesterday! I got him to eat some bone broth, meat, and vegetables and he took it like a champ, so I’m sticking to stuff like that for now. It’s looking like his physiology isn’t that different from ours on an internal level.”

The Mandalorian sighed something close to relief, and the three of you kept walking towards the town that you could see in the distance. It was small, and primitive when compared to Nevarro, but the atmosphere felt… kinder, somehow. There seemed to only be one cantina, so you both decided to start there. You walked in after Mando and let him scope out the place while you watched the child follow along behind him, slowly shuffling his way across the floor while keeping his eyes on Mando’s back. Walking to a table, Mando picked up the baby and placed him on a chair. You sat down next to him and watched as the women who owned the cantina started making her way to your table.

“Greetings, travelers,” she said politely, “Can I get you anything?”

“Bone broth, for the little one,” Mando said immediately.

She nodded and said, “That’ll be easy, I just took down a grinjer so there’s plenty.”

_A what?_ Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “What’s a grinjer?”

The waitress looked a bit startled by the unintentionally aggressive-sounding question, and hearing Mando’s quiet sigh you could feel the embarrassment start to burn your face, but she kindly replied, “It’s a large mammal, like a nerf, only with much sharper teeth and a hell of an attitude.”

You laughed sheepishly and said, “Sorry, thanks. I’ll take broth as well.”

Before the waitress could say anything else, Mando quietly asked, “That woman, how long has she been here?”

You followed his gaze and saw the one he was referring to. She was nursing a drink at the back of the cantina. She looked like she could rip someone in half, but in a nonchalant way. Everything about her screamed _Don’t fuck with me._

“Oh, I don’t know, about a week or so,” she answered, seeming a little confused by the inquiry.

“What’s her business here?”

“Business?” she said with a bit of a laugh, “I’m afraid there’s no business in Sorgan.” Mando wordlessly tossed some credits on the table, and even without counting you knew he was overpaying. The waitress reached to grab them, saying, “ _But_ , she doesn’t quite strike me as a log-runner. Thank you, sir.” She said this last part sincerely, and left after saying, “I’ll get that to you right away, and I’ll throw in a flagon of spotchka for good measure.”

She walked away, and not long after Mando quietly cursed. You turned to him as he got to his feet, and he quickly explained. “She’s gone, and she could be a problem. I’m going to check it out, watch the kid.” Without waiting for a response, he was out the door.

The child watched him go, and then looked at you with a confused expression. The waitress, true to her word, was back quickly and laid down the broths and a flagon of whatever the hell spotchka was before making herself sarce. The child seemed conflicted now between following Mando and eating his lunch, the choice clearly weighing heavily on him as he took back and forth between the door and the bowl.

“Want to go after him?” you asked the child. To your surprise, he immediately climbed off the tall chair, dropping to his feet and stared up at the table. “Aw, kiddo” you asked teasingly, “Did you forget your lunch?” As you reached up a hand to grab the bowl, your heart stopped when it moved all on its own, sliding across the table and floating down to land safely in the baby’s hands, not a drop of broth spilled. 

You were in shock. _What the fuck was that? What the FUCK was that?! How did that just happen?_ The child didn’t seem to notice your panic; he slowly toddled his way out the cantina. Quickly coming to your senses, you rushed after him, deciding to put your freakout on hold. As soon as you stepped outside, you heard the telltale sounds of a fistfight. Holding your blaster at the ready, you slowly approached, the child following behind you while quietly slurping his food.

You could see Mando and the woman from earlier, locked in a brutal fight with no clear winner. Though, after watching her strongarm Mando into the ground and seeing him fold like an omelette when his face met the floor, you wanted to say it was leaning in her direction. They continued grappling and rolling, coming to stop and pulling out their blasters at the same time. However, the loud slurping of the child caused them to look in your direction.

“Hiya,” you said brightly, charging up your blaster and pointing it at the woman holding Mando at gunpoint, “I hate to break up a fair fight, but I’d prefer if you didn’t shoot my buddy there. Can we call this a draw?”

She didn’t answer right away, still out of breath from the fight, but Mando quickly extended an olive branch, powering down his blaster and saying, “Want some soup?”

* * *

“Name’s Cara,” she said, offering a hand in your direction once you were all sitting back at your table. 

You grinned and took it, and she squeezed your hand painfully when you shook. “It’s nice to meet you, Cara.”

She raised an eyebrow, sarcastically replying, “What? No name?”

You laughed and shrugged, “You can call me Engineer, or anything you want, really, I don’t mind.”

Cara seemed a little put off by your answer, but she didn’t seem to dwell much on it, inclining her head towards the Mandalorian.

“What about you? You got a name?”

“Mando.”

If she seemed unimpressed earlier, she was definitely unimpressed now. “Alright, so an Engineer and a Mandalorian.” She gestured to the green child, sitting on a chair while finishing off his broth. “What about that thing? Please tell me it has a name.”

You and Mando awkwardly looked at each other, neither of you answering. Cara laughed loudly and shook her head, pouring herself some of the spotchka the waitress had brought down earlier.

“You all are a strange crowd for sure,” she said, smiling while she took a swig. She looked over to Mando apologetically, and said, “Look, I knew you were Guild and I figured you had a fob on me, that’s why I came at you so hard.”

“I understand,” Mando said easily, his posture relaxing more as the four of you sat together. You watched the Beskar-lined shoulders slowly lowering over time as the tension lessened, but rising up and down as Mando breathed. You heard Mando and Cara talking, but you got a little lost in the way the Beskar was reflecting the sunlight streaming in from the window. _What are the reflection and transmission coefficients of Beskar? If it’s curved enough, can it be used as a light magnifier? That would be a good way to signal across long distances_. You turned your gaze to the spotchka when Cara refilled her cup and placed it down, its blue glow looking out of place on the simple table.

_What is spotchka? Is it alcoholic? Is it like tea, or maybe something caffeinated, like caf? Considering that it’s sold in a cantina, it’s probably alcoholic. What is it actually made of? It glows, and is clearly non-toxic, so maybe it’s made of something organic? Some animals are known to emit light through bioluminescence, but can you make an alcoholic drink out of animals? Most alcohol is just fermented plants, so perhaps animals can be fermented the same way? Maker, that sounds so unappealing -_

Cara nudged your shoulder roughly, and you jumped and immediately turned to face her. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, how does an engineer end up travelling with a Mandalorian?” she asked you again, “Don’t most engineers stay planet-side and work in some sort of facility?”

Ah. Well, that was a bit of a long story, and truthfully, you never even told Mando the real reasons you had taken him up on his job offer. You felt uneasy at the thought of sharing details from your personal life, especially with someone you just met, so you decided to deflect a little. You grinned past the tightness in your chest and said with easy confidence, “He paid. _Handsomely_.”

She laughed, and the matter dropped. _Thank the Maker_. After this, you paid rapt attention to the conversation, listening to Cara talk about her days in the Rebellion before and after the end of war five years ago and her subsequent early retirement to Sorgan.

Cara finished her soup and immediately stood up. “It’s been nice, Nameless Trio, but one of us is going to have to move and I was here first.” Without another word, she was walking away.

Well, shit. She had a point, but it wasn’t going to be fun finding another planet to camp out on, especially when this one was so promising. 

Mando turned to face the child and said, “Well, looks like this planet is taken.” He turned to you and said, “We should head back to the Crest and make our way out of the system. We can find another place.”

You smiled and said upbeat, “Sounds good to me, the spotchka was weirding me out anyways. I’ll take a look at the exterior of the ship before we fly off again. I don’t think it was damaged to the point of a fix, but it couldn’t hurt to check.”

Mando nodded, then placed the child on the floor so the three of you could walk out of the cantina and back to the Crest. The walk was a little long, and the sun was beginning to set as you made your way back to the ship, lighting up the sky in hues of orange and yellow.

As you walked, you watched the child clumsily walk across the forest floor, occasionally getting sidetracked by hunting bugs and other animals in the path. It was when you saw him pounce and grab onto an insect that you suddenly remembered what had happened in the cantina earlier. 

You were sure about what you saw. The bowl moved without anyone touching it, floating to the child’s hands perfectly. And, the child didn’t seem _surprised_ by it, like he had expected it.

Like he had done it himself. Intentionally. 

You sighed heavily and looked to the man at your side. Judging by the angle of his helmet, he was watching the child too as you all walked.

“Mando,” you said uneasily, “I have to tell you something, but it’s going to sound a little crazy.”

He turned to you slowly, momentarily stopping in the path to face you. When he didn’t say anything, you continued.

“When I was in the cantina, just after you left,” you explained, “The child jumped off his chair to the floor. And then…” Maker, you felt so ridiculous saying this, it sounded completely insane. “... his soup bowl moved all on its own, and floated into his hands.”

Mando didn’t say anything, and you cringed, starting to wring your hands anxiously and saying, “Look, I know it sounds stupid and impossible, but _I know what I saw_ \- “

“I believe you.”

You stopped your wringing, and looked up to him. He was standing straight, his shoulders raised with tension. 

“Back on Arvala-7, I saw the child lift a mudhorn with its mind.”

“A _mudhorn_?!” you said, “Maker, _how_?!”

He shook his head and said, “I don’t know. He saved me, and then he passed out. I think it was some form of mental exhaustion.”

Oh Maker, this was bad. “Wait,” you said, putting a fist to your mouth, “so that’s what that was about. When you came back with the parts for the Crest, and I said he must’ve fell asleep. Your reaction seemed to disagree with what I said.”

Mando stayed silent, and you picked up on the way he looked at the ground instead of facing you. 

You tried to keep the hurt out of your voice, but you knew he could hear it by the way he flinched when you quietly asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook his head and said, “I don’t know.”

Well, that stung a bit, but it wasn’t as if you didn’t have your own secrets. You supposed that back then, when Mando was convinced he was going to turn in the child and that you were leaving, that there wouldn’t have been a reason to bring it up. In the end, you supposed you knew now, and that was better than nothing, even if it didn’t balm the small ache in the center of your chest. You sighed and continued walking slowly towards the Crest, gesturing for him to walk next to you. He fell in step and you crossed your arms as the sun continued to set, the air growing colder. You walked in silence for a while before you decided to ask something that had been on your mind for a while.

“Mando?” you asked.

“Yeah, Scraps?”

The nickname started to ease the tightness in your chest, and you tried to relax and act nonchalant when you asked, “What exactly are we?”

Mando tripped over a root and you quickly darted to steady him. “Holy shit, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, righting himself and continuing to walk. “What do you mean?”

You looked at the sky, half to think and half to avoid looking at him while talking so openly. “Well, we were working together, and then I quit, and you never _actually_ rehired me, so now I’m just an unemployed leech that sleeps in your ship and eats your food - “

“You are not a leech,” Mando said immediately, and while that was sweet of him to interject, you wanted to finish before getting back to that.

“And now we’re criminals and reverse kidnappers,” you said with an air of finality, “We’re taking care of what appears to be a fifty-year old green baby with magic mind powers. I just want to set the record straight before we get to the next planet.” You shoved your hands into your pockets as deep as they would go so that you wouldn’t fidget during such an uncomfortable conversation. “So, what exactly are we now?”

Mando kept his gaze on the child as you all continued to march, and he seemed to be conflicted on how to answer. Finally, he turned and said, “What do you think we are now?”

You sighed and said, “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking _you_.”

He tried again and said, “What do you _want_ us to be?”

_What do I want us to be?_ You thought to yourself. You clearly were more than work associates, unless being (literal) partners in crime counted as work. But if you weren’t officially working together anymore, what were you then?

Unbidden, a memory of your mother surfaced, and you thought of when she had explained the sad, solitary emotion you felt when you were still adjusting to life on Tatooine.

_A squish! It’s like a crush, but for when you want to be friends_. 

“Friends,” you said firmly even as your throat felt constricted by sharing your feelings, “I want us to be friends. I want us to enjoy each other’s company while having each other’s backs. I want to joke around with you and annoy you with my rambling while you annoy me with your silent treatment.” You cut off the beginning of your rambling with a shaky sigh and ended the sentiment with, “I want us to stick together because we _want_ to, not because we _have_ to.” 

You felt nervous having put those thoughts out there, and you hoped you were keeping the stress off your face while you waited for a response.

Mando turned his head towards you, then leaned over to gently bump your shoulder with his. He then spoke in a way that sounded honest and lighthearted as he said, “I thought we were _already_ friends, Scraps.”

You felt your face heat up with a blush, and you could feel the knot in your chest unravelling as you let out a laugh, bumped him back with a grin, and teasingly said, “Well, y-you know, I didn’t want to assume - ”

He laughed good-naturedly, and you couldn’t stop yourself from joining in. Yeah, you two were a couple of Guild traitors and Imperial criminals on the run to protect a tiny baby sorcerer, but you found you weren’t as worried as you had been, not when you knew you had Mando at your side.

After all, what else were friends for?


	8. Night out on Sorgan and Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes through part of Episode 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Surprise, bitch! Thought you'd seen the last of me!)
> 
> Hi guys! Apologies for the later-than-anticipated update, school had completely taken over my life and I had a short stint in the ER, but I'm back to normal and really happy to be updating this story! Thank you for your patience!
> 
> We're going to start to see more of Scraps' past as we go on, and - as is typical of any original character - it won't be very nice. I have no intentions of putting anything graphic in this story, but nevertheless I will begin to add warnings both in the tags of this story and at the beginning of any chapter with potentially triggering contents. If I miss anything that you think should have a content warning, please don't hesitate to let me know so that I can fix it. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter; have a great weekend and stay safe!

Maker, you didn’t think you could embarrass yourself more right now if you tried.

Ever since you and Mando had officially named each other friends, you’ve been fighting to keep this stupid, dopey smile off your face; you were just grateful that the darkness of the night was obscuring your expression. 

_C’mon, Scraps, get a grip!_

The child had gotten tired quickly and fell asleep; he was safely nestled in Mando’s arms as the two of you finally came across the Crest. You sighed as you stared at the hulking ship, knowing that it would be difficult to assess the damage on the outside of the ship with no light. 

“Should we stay until morning?” you asked Mando as he lowered the ramp, “I still want to make sure those bounty hunters didn’t do any serious damage before we take off again.”

Mando had already started making his way up the ramp, and turning his head to the side, he said, “It’s better if we take off tonight. I have a flashlight lying around somewhere, I’ll bring it out for you once I put the kid to bed. We can head out as soon as you’re ready.”

You didn’t bother answering, just nodded to yourself while you squinted at the Crest, peering around for any obvious signs of damage in the darkness. _Carbon scoring will be impossible to fix here, but it won’t cause any real issues short term. If there’s any major dents or other structural damage, that could cause a lot of trouble…_

Before you knew it, Mando was heading back down the ramp and wordlessly handing you the light, which you immediately flipped on and began to evaluate the exterior of the ship.

_The sides look okay,_ you thought as you slowly circled the Crest, _no obvious signs of damage, nothing that will eject us into the vast abyss of space and suck our eyeballs out of our heads. Wait, does Mando’s helmet have any pressurization features? Would it be able to keep air in? If not, could it be modified to? What about water, would he be able to use his helmet to breathe underwater?_

You realized you had been staring at the same metal panel for a little too long, and finally made your way underneath the Crest, where you suspected most of the damage, if any, would be taken. 

_It’s looking fine here as well, much more carbon scoring, but insignificant enough to ignore for now. Definitely won’t implode if we re-enter hyperspace. Wait, would it implode or explode? Maker, I should’ve paid better attention in those goddamn engineering classes. Let’s think, when there is no heat, fuel, or other accelerator involved, it should implode due to depressurization -_

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

You yelled out in surprise and whirled around, blaster poised at the two men who had managed to sneak up on you. They yelled back in response and ducked with a desperate, “Please don’t shoot us!”

You heard Mando’s thundering steps coming down the ramp, fast. 

“What’s going on out here?” he demanded, taking in the two cowarring individuals and your embarrassed look.

“My bad,” you said sheepishly, putting your blaster back into its holster. The men started to relax at this, and quickly stood back up to face you and Mando. “They snuck up on me and I got a bit jumpy.” Mando gave you an unimpressed tilt of his helmet and you shrugged.

Mando turned back and continued loading the Crest, but asked them, “Is there something we can help you with?”

You could by the tone that he wasn’t seriously offering them help, but the two locals didn’t seem to pick up on it. They followed Mando as he worked, the one with longer hair stating, “Yes. Raiders.”

The other followed up immediately with, “We have money.”

_Oh, now_ that _might actually work,_ you thought as you watched the exchange, _Maker knows we always need more money, especially since now we can’t rely on the Guild. Some extra change would also mean more medical supplies, we’re still short on just about everything._

Mando dryly replied, “So you think we’re some kind of mercenaries?”

The two looked at each other and then back to Mando. Long Hair said, “You are a Mandalorian, right?” He then glanced in your direction, and then proceeded to stuff his foot in his mouth by saying, “Well, I mean, she doesn’t look like a mercenary, but if she’s travelling with you, a-and you’re a Mandalorian- or, I mean, you’re at least wearing Mandalorian armor- that is Mandalorian armor, right?”

“I hate to interrupt,” you said, but not unkindly, “But let’s cut to the chase. How much money do you have?”

“Everything we have,” he said, “Our harvest was stolen, and the whole village pitched in.”

The other man clarified, saying, “Krill, we’re krill farmers.”

Long Hair nodded emphatically in agreement, once again saying, “The _whole village_ pitched in.”

He held out a small bag of credits, and judging by the size of it, whatever they had wouldn’t even be enough to fuel up the Crest. You doubted it would fill half the tank. 

You could see the same gears turning in Mando’s head as he said simply, “It’s not enough.”

These guys were clearly not expecting such a quick rejection, and began to argue. “You don’t even know what the job is!”

Mando didn’t pay this any heed, stating, “I know it’s not enough. Good luck.” And with that, he continued wordlessly prepping the Crest.

You sighed quietly and thought, _Well, he’s not wrong, but he definitely could’ve let them down easier._ You turned to them and smiled politely, saying, “Sorry guys, I hope everything works out okay.”

“What about you?” he asked you urgently, “Can you help us?”

_Man, they must be pretty desperate to ask me for help with raiders, especially after he kind of dissed me earlier. Not that I blame them, nothing about me really screams ‘professional badass’._ You shook your head and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t. Good luck.”

You watched as they began to shuffle back to their hitch in defeat. You heard one of them say, “Come on, let’s head back.”

It wasn’t hard to make out the other’s frustrated voice, saying, “Now we have to ride back with no protection. It took us the whole day to get here, and now we have to ride back to the middle of nowhere with _no protection_.”

Mando’s voice unexpectedly rang out, asking, “Where do you live?”

“... On a farm? We’re krill farmers.”

You were confused where this was going until Mando followed that up with, “In the middle of nowhere?”

“Yes?”

“You have lodging?”

The two of them caught on too, and eagerly said, “Yeah, absolutely.”

Mando looked over to you in silent question. _Are you okay with this?_

You smiled and nodded. After all, laying low in Sorgan seemed much more appealing than starting from scratch and trying to find another hide-away.

Mando nodded back and said, “Good. Come over here and help. And hand me those credits.”

* * *

Mando left with the credits to get Cara, leaving you with the two locals and a lot of manual labor to do.

Long Hair - whose name you learned was Stoke - and the Other Guy - whose name you learned was Caben - were actually some decent people, even if a little cowardly. They were eager to help gather and load supplies into their slow-moving transporter, and they weren’t afraid to make conversation. _It must’ve been a long time since they met someone who wasn’t from Sorgan,_ you thought as you went to grab another box.

“How long have you been an engineer?” Caben asked as he hauled a box into the transporter.

You huffed as you placed your box next to the one he just placed down. “Officially? About three or four years.”

Stoke glanced over and asked, “What about unofficially?”

You laughed once, and said, “Closer to fifteen. My mother fixes ships, I worked in her garage until I got a license to practice independently.”

Stoke whistled, “That’s impressive. Our village’s main resource is krill, so most of us end up as krill farmers. Caben and I have been doing it since we were kids.”

Caben piped up with a joking, “We don’t have licenses, so I guess you could say we’ve been doing it unofficially for over twenty years.”

You laughed at that and grabbed the last box, putting it down and dusting off your hands. You turned around and with a quick hop were seated on the edge of the transport, facing the two men. “So what does krill farming entail?”

Caben answered as Stoke moved to lean against the edge of the transporter. “It’s a lot of population control. The krill need a lot of nutrients from their environment, so having too many can lead to starvation or aggression.”

You frowned and leaned forward so your elbows rested on your knees. “Aggression?”

Stoke nodded enthusiastically, saying animatedly, “Oh yeah! Krill have these tails that can curl and flick back out really fast, so if there isn’t enough food for them, they’ll fight for it. It looks really crazy when you have hundreds of them going at each other like that.”

You nodded and followed up with, “So what do you guys do with all the krill?”

Caben said, “We brew spotchka.”

Before you could ask more questions about spotchka - and believe it, you had some _questions_ about the weird ass beverage - you spotted Mando and Cara coming out of the forest line.

“Hey Mando, Cara!” you called out, hopping off the transporter and making your way towards them.

“Are we ready to go?” Mando asked. _Cutting to the chase as always_ , you thought, amused.

“Nearly!” you answered brightly, “Just need to get the last piece of precious cargo. I’ll be right back.”

You could hear Caben and Stoke muttering to themselves confusedly as you made your way up the ramp and back to the partitioned space that Mando had placed the child. Pressing the switch to open the hatch, you saw that the little guy was still fast asleep, wrapped up in a blanket that Mando must’ve grabbed for him when he put him down earlier.

Smiling at the sleeping kid, you gently picked him up and cradled him to your chest, closing the hatch and then making your way outside to close the ramp. You could hear Stoke gasp quietly when he saw you carrying the bundle, and he slapped Caben’s arm to get him to look as well.

“I didn’t know you guys had a baby!” Stoke said quietly but excitedly, starting to make his way over to you to get a closer look.

You shifted the kid and laughed a bit awkwardly as he tried to catch a glimpse. “Well, you see - ”

When Stoke caught sight of the child he leaned back in surprise. You almost laughed out loud at the expression on his face, but reigned it in so the kid wouldn’t wake up. Cara couldn’t stop herself from laughing, but she did have the decency to muffle her laugh through her hand.

“He’s not either of ours biologically,” you explained, “but we _are_ his caretakers.” He nodded in understanding, and then began to make his way to the transporter.

You moved towards the back of the transporter and carefully got settled, the kid didn’t wake up through any of the movement and you felt a bit of pride at that. Mando saddled up next to you, with Cara leaning up on the other side and Stoke and Caben taking the reins at the front. It was still insanely dark out, and the sun wouldn’t be rising for another few hours, so you hoped you all could get some rest in before you dealt with these guys’ raider problem.

The forest was quieter than you expected, the only noises that you could clearly make out were the slow rustle of leaves. You sighed and looked up at the stars as you rubbed a slow circle into the child’s back, trying to make sure he kept warm in the night chill. _The stars are so bright out here, you can clearly see each and every one even through the trees. It would be nice to have a view like this, even if you’d have to krill farm to have it. It reminds me so much of the night skies in Aviva -_

Your heart jumped unpleasantly at that thought and you took a slow breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth. _Don’t think about it._ You looked to the trees and couldn’t see anything past the tiny lantern at the front of the transporter. The darkness was impenetrable, and you began to feel a bit anxious at the thought of what lied out in wait. 

Unwillingly, your mind brought forward the voice of your babbo, your _father_ \- 

_“Scraps, you have to be careful playing outside after dark. Aviva is full of nocturnal predators that can lie out in wait - “_

_Stop thinking about it!_

You closed your eyes and took another deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, though you could feel a minute tremble as you did. _Calm down, you’re on Sorgan, you are on_ Sorgan _, not on -_

“Scraps?”

You turned to look at Mando, who was leaning back but had his head pointed towards you.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

You sighed and nodded, looking back out at the forest. You whispered back, “Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.”

He paused for a moment, then asked even quieter than before, “Do you want me to take the first watch?”

You were a little touched by that. You knew he had probably offered because he thought you were nervous to sleep in a new environment. _No_ , you thought, _if anything, Sorgan feels much too familiar..._

Still, taking watches wasn’t going to help you sleep, and there was no need for Mando to lose sleep with you. Trying to reassure him you teased him, whispering, “Aw, Mando, you really _do_ care!” You slowly bumped your shoulder against his, following up with, “Really though, I’m alright. Get some rest, I’ll sleep in a little bit. I think I want to enjoy the view for a while.” You leaned back and turned your head to the stars above you once again, trying to clear your mind.

He looked at you for a moment longer before turning back and fully reclining, crossing his arms behind his head and getting comfortable. Within a few minutes, he was asleep, his breathing evened out and his posture relaxed.

Smiling at him softly, you slowly leaned back and closed your eyes, hoping to follow suit soon.

* * *

_“‘Mina? Babbo?” you called out quietly, walking towards your parents’ room. It was late, and you had woken up and had been unable to fall asleep. The dark surrounding your home was oppressive, and you hoped you wouldn’t bother them too much by asking to stay in their room for a bit, at least until you could fall back asleep._

_As you came closer to the bedroom door, you heard the whispered voice of your Babbo out in the kitchen, followed quickly by your Mina’s equally hushed voice. Despite the low volume, you could clearly hear the utterly serious and agitated tone of your mother, as well as the soothing tone of your father. You slowly made your way towards them, staying out of sight and trying not to make a sound._

_“I’m sure everything is alright,” your Babbo said evenly, obviously trying to placate his wife._

_“How could you possibly know that?” your Mina whispered back harshly, “I’m telling you, something’s happened to Bracca. She’s been gone too long, it’s not like her. She would’ve sent back word if she was being held up by something. I haven’t heard a damn thing!”_

Aunt Bracca? _you thought as you hid behind the wall closest to the table your parents were seated at,_ She went to the next town over to trade, but that was over two weeks ago. Is she still not back yet? Is she okay?

_“I’m worried too,” your Babbo said calmly, “and I think you have a point. First thing tomorrow I’ll get some extra pairs of hands and make the trek over to figure out what’s going on. We’ll find her and make sure everything is okay, okay? Who knows, maybe her transporter broke down and had to be fixed and that’s all this is. Or,” and he said this piece with light humor, “maybe she finally found someone to settle down with in that little town and has fallen so quickly and deeply in love she forgot to send us a message.”_

_He reached across the table and took one of your Mina’s hands in his own, raising it to his face and kissing the back of it. To your shock, you saw your Mina slowly begin to cry, pressing her free hand against her mouth and not making a sound, as your Babbo continued to hold her hand, clasping it in both of his._

_“She’s my best friend,” she said shakily, hastily wiping her eyes and composing herself before saying, “I don’t know what I’ll do if something happened. What would we tell Scraps?”_

_“We’ll worry about it when and_ if _we need to worry about it,” he responded, “For now, let me help you.”_

_Silently, you made your way back to your room._ What happened to Aunt Bracca? What if she was hurt, or stuck somewhere between settlements? What if she had- what if she was already-

_You closed your bedroom door and got back into bed, but you didn’t sleep the rest of the night._

  
  


* * *

The sun had risen by the time you woke up, but Cara and Mando were still asleep.

_What woke me up?_ The bundle at your chest was wriggling, and a clawed hand was scratching at the arm you had wrapped around him, trying to get your attention.

“What’s up little man?” you said quietly, sitting up and unwrapping the gremlin. He stood in your lap and looked at you with those huge dark eyes for a moment before surveying his new surroundings. He looked at the foliage around in awe, his mouth hanging open and displaying his sharp teeth. _We did find him on a desert planet, has he ever seen a real forest before? His species seem like they would be from some humid or forested area, but who is to say that he was born on his species’ home planet? Or if he was, was he on it long enough to retain memories from it? How long can his species retain memories for?_ His eyes were wide and watched as the light breeze shook the leaves, scattering a few to the forest floor while beams of sunlight shined through.. 

You chuckled quietly and ran a hand over his head. “Do you like the forest? I bet green is your new favorite color.” 

He looked at you when you spoke, but didn’t show any sign that he understood what you said. When he kept staring at you, you continued, “I don’t really have a favorite color, but I think green is definitely in the running.” He seemed to understand the compliment, because he smiled at you and his ears perked up. You ran your hand down one, watching it droop and pop back up. 

“So he really doesn’t have a name, huh?”

You started at Cara’s voice, not realizing she had woken up yet. You turned to her and shrugged, embarrassed. “It’s not like he came with a nametag.”

She hummed, looking amused. “Well then why don’t you give him one, _Scraps_?”

Your heart clenched uncomfortably at that; you frowned at her and said, “I don’t remember giving you that name.”

She smiled slyly and said, “No, but you _did_ say I could call you whatever I wanted, and if that name is good enough for him - ” she gestured to the still asleep Mandalorian “ - then it’s good enough for me, _Scraps_.”

Oh, she must’ve heard Mando call you that last night, when you both thought she had already fallen asleep. Still, your chest felt constricted at hearing your old nickname being thrown around so casually. For so long it had been a name that only your family had used; giving it to Mando was something that took a lot of time for you to work up the courage to do. _And yet_ , you tried to think reasonably to yourself, _since it was just Mando and I for so long, there wasn’t necessarily a need for a particular name, since it was obvious who we were talking to. If we’re going to be around a whole village of people, then I will need to go by some name. I could use the name I used for my engineering certification, but I don’t want to leave any information that could be traced back to me._ You sighed resignedly. _Well, no one would ever be able to trace my old nickname back to me, so I guess I should either get used to it or find another name._

“That’ll work for now,” you said finally, shrugging to try and make a show of indifference even as you felt your heart squeeze at the thought. You don’t know if Cara bought it or not, but to be honest, you didn’t really care.

_Just stay calm, once we get there and get settled we can deal with this raider problem and then be set for the next few months._

It wasn’t long before you arrived at the village, the sudden stop jolting Mando awake. You looked out at the small settlement, watching as a small army of children ran over to greet you all. 

“Well, looks like they’re happy to see us,” Mando said, sitting up fully and making his way off the transporter. The child initially watched him as he started moving, but was quickly distracted by the group of kids fawning over him. 

Smiling to yourself, you stood up and walked to the edge of the vehicle, jumping lightly to the ground and moving to help grab some of your belongings. Saddling up next to Mando and grabbing a box, you said, “Let’s hope these raiders are ridiculously easy to take down, I’m beat from all this travelling and wouldn’t mind taking a day off after kicking all their asses.”

“A day off?” Mando said back sarcastically, “Yesterday you told me you were unemployed, aren’t all your days ‘off’?”

“Oh come on, Mando - “

“And _you_ are gonna kick all their asses?” he said with an unimpressed helmet tilt, “I believe your two new friends made it clear that _I_ was the ass-kicker around here.”

You laughed at that, throwing back, “Well, you got me there, but don’t underestimate me! You just haven’t had a good chance to see my moves up close. You’d be surprised what they teach you in engineering school.”

He shook his head, but you could just make out his huff of a laugh through his vocoder. _I wish he would laugh more_ , you thought, _he does have a really nice laugh._

Calling out to the kid to follow, the three of you began to walk to your new home on Sorgan.


	9. The internal storm before the external storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes through parts of Episode 4. Scraps and Mando move in together, and we finally get a clearer picture of Scraps' past.
> 
> Trigger warnings for: mentions of death and slavery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have finals? Yes. 
> 
> Did I procrastinate studying for them by writing fanfiction? Also yes.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please leave any feedback you have, good or bad, I'd love to know what you guys think!

You and Mando were led to a small shack near the edge of the village, the kid following at your heels while the rest of the children gawked at him. _Or,_ you thought, smiling wryly to yourself, _they’re staring at the hulking metal guy that looked like he could snap someone’s spine like a twig._ Walking through the village, you felt that you got the gist of this place pretty quickly: mostly farmland, remote and primitive as a choice. Looking at the dwellings and the simple clothing of the villagers, you felt unexpectedly at ease. It was a nice place, quiet. Perfect for laying low, meaning it was perfect for the three of you.

Soon, you all arrived at a hut at the edge of the settlement. Looking inside revealed a cozy little room with just enough furniture to be comfortable. One of the village women was inside, opening up a rudimentary window and securing it to let some sunlight in. She looked up as Mando walked in, stilling for a moment before telling us to come in. Mando obliged silently, placing a box of belongings on a small table. You followed right after, dropping your stuff on the floor by the wall and exaggeratedly dusting off your hands.

The woman smiled and turned to the two of you, saying, “I hope this is comfortable for you both.”

You smiled back, but looking around the place you couldn’t help but notice a problem or two. Namely, the two cots in plain view of one another without an ounce of privacy. _This won’t work long term, Mando needs to take off his helmet at some point, and it wouldn’t be right to expect him to sleep with it on. That has to be hell on his neck._ Rather than bringing it up now, you held your tongue. After all, these people were letting you stay here rent free, you weren’t about to start off on the wrong foot by bitching about the living arrangements. You and Mando were adults, you’ll figure it out yourselves.

Before either of you could answer she continued, saying, “Sorry that all we have is the barn.”

You responded quickly, “It’s no problem at all! We really appreciate you all giving us a place to stay.”

Mando stayed silent, but you’d like to think that he agreed with you. The woman moved towards the door and gestured to a corner of the room, saying, “I stacked some blankets over here.”

Mando answered her this time while he put down his rifle, saying awkwardly, “Thank you. That’s … very kind.”

The kid walked up to you, staring up with a tooth-filled smile. You smiled back and knelt on one knee on the floor, ruffling the peach fuzz on the top of his head. You turned back to the woman and said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I’m Omera,” she said kindly, and then asked, “What about you two?”

“I go by Scraps,” you said, deciding to bite the bullet now and get the name circulating through the little village, “and the brooding one back there is Mando.”

Omera chuckled, staring at Mando’s back as he continued unpacking. Facing the door, it was easy for you to see the young girl peeking around the corner to get a look at the newcomers. Before you could say a word to her, Mando aggressively spun around, startling the girl and causing her to jump back.

“Maker, Mando, you’re going to give someone a heart attack with those reflexes,” you said jokingly over your shoulder. Turning to meet his eye you saw him standing still, untensing as the woman revealed the little girl that inspired such a reaction in him. You could from the posture that he was regretful and, dare you say it, maybe even a little embarrassed. 

“This is my daughter, Winta,” Omera said gently as she stroked her daughter’s hair, “We don’t get many visitors around here, so she’s not used to strangers.” The girl, Winta ( _That’s pretty, like ‘winter’,_ you thought), was clinging to her mother and shyly looking at the Mandalorian.

“Hi there, Winta!” you said brightly with a wave, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Winta didn’t respond, but she _did_ look at you, so you’ll call it a win. The girl glanced back up when her mother spoke again. “This nice man is going to help us from the bad ones.”

_Just the nice man? Maker, I must look incredibly unintimidating. This is the third person from this village to underestimate my ass-kicking capabilities_ , you thought, pushing yourself back up to your feet, _But hey, at least people won’t see my big reflective head from ten miles away_. Stealing a quick glance at Mando, you suppressed a smile at the thought of him blinding bounties with his new armor. _Maker, I can only imagine how blinding he’d be back on Tatooine. Nevarro was bad enough, but Tatooine is even worse. Sometimes it feels like it’s bright even at night -_

Unexpectedly, you heard Mando pipe up, stating, “We both are.”

You turned to fully look at him, grinning a little at that statement. It was sweet of him to defend your combat skills, mediocre as they were compared to his. Not for the first time, you thought to yourself, _What a big metal softie_. 

Winta, still trying to hide in her mother’s dress, said a quiet, “Thank you.” Mando simply inclined his head as an acknowledgement. _She must be a brave kid,_ you thought, _she’s the only one who’s looked Mando in the eyes - or helmet, I guess - and the only kid to say a word to him. I bet she’ll give the other kids the courage to interact with him later._

Omera and Winta said a quick goodbye and left the three of you alone. Sighing, you turned to Mando and said, “Alright, what do you think we should do about this?”

“About what,” he responded flatly, continuing to unpack with his back to you.

“C’mon Mando,” you said, stepping up to his side and trying to get his attention, “Neither of us have any privacy here, and I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable to sleep with all your armor on.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said stubbornly.

“Don’t give me that, Mando,” you said, trying to convey your concern, “We’re planning on being here for a while, you need to be able to sleep in peace.” When he didn’t respond, you tried to lighten the conversation up a bit by saying, “Besides, I don’t want to have to listen to some old guy complaining about a stiff neck for the next few months.”

He finally turned to you at this, saying indignantly, “I’m not old!” He noticed the grin on your face and huffed, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the left before saying quietly, “I’m only thirty-four, Scraps.”

Huh. You had to admit, you were expecting him to take a playful jab back at you, not give you a piece of information about himself. It made you feel warm, and without you realizing, your expression had softened to a sort of fondness, and you decided, albeit impulsively, to meet Mando halfway.

“I’m thirty-one.”

His gaze turned back to you, and you laughed and pushed his shoulder, saying, “You’re still older than me, though, _old man_.” The child cooed somewhere behind you, and you added, “And let’s not forget about the baby with the senior discount over there, he’s ancient.”

He huffed and shook his head, turning back to keep unpacking. Getting back on topic, you said, “Seriously though, I want you to be comfortable here. We can figure something out, maybe put up a partition, or take shifts or something. I could even go bunk up with Cara, I can’t imagine she would mind terribly, but then again, she seemed kind of annoyed by me earlier, so she might _actually_ mind - ”

“Scraps,” he stopped you, and said, “It’s fine, really. At least for tonight. We can worry about it later.”

You nodded, conceding for now, and the two of you worked on setting up your new home in companionable silence.

* * *

You were in the middle of padding the crib the villagers had lent you two (and formulating a plan for building one you could take with you when you inevitably had to leave Sorgan) when someone swung by the hut.

“Scraps! Mando!”

You turned to the entrance of the hut, seeing Stoke standing there. _Well, it looks like the name is definitely getting around_. You got up and walked towards him, saying, “Hey Stoke, what’s up?”

“We’re preparing lunch, you guys should join us,” Stoke said in an eager way that seemed more and more to be his default setting, gesturing outside towards the center of the village.

You looked back at Mando, who was pretending the only thing that existed in the world were the black shirts he was folding, though you knew he was listening in. You knew he wouldn’t mind if you went off without him, but you didn’t really want to go. You were in a groove with setting everything up too and didn’t want to stop the momentum while you still had it. _Who knew, maybe I could get the child’s bed for the Crest started tonight, it shouldn’t be too difficult._

You smiled apologetically and said, “Thanks for the offer, Stoke, but I think we’re gonna pass. I’ll see you around, okay?”

Stoke expressed that he understood and quickly left, leaving the three of you to continue working in rustling silence.

While setting up the barn was the surface level excuse you gave yourself, you couldn’t pretend that that was the deciding factor. The deciding factor was that you honestly weren’t feeling up to meeting the entire village in one go. For a long while now the only company you had was Mando, and even then he was out on the job more often than not. You had gotten used to the solitude; there was always work to be done on the Crest, and if you were starving for company you could just as easily go into any nearby town or cantina. You hadn’t been settled in a community for a long time, and you couldn’t help but feel intimidated at the prospect of being planetside for any extended period of time. _Not only that_ , you thought, _but that nice villager from earlier - Maker, what did she say her name was? Oh, that’s right, Omera - said they didn’t get many visitors, and I imagine that all these people will want to do is try and pry every bit of information they can out of us for gossip._ Hearing Mando place an empty box down on the floor of the hut, your thoughts floated to him, and you realized something much more alarming. _Will they be too intimidated by Mando to even try to talk to him? Not to mention Cara, who is equally scary-looking. And it’s not like they can talk to the baby, so that leaves the scrappy looking engineer Scraps for entertainment._

You pressed your right fist to your mouth, gripping your right elbow with your free hand while you stared at a pile of tools you’d brought. _This whole thing might not be as simple as I was assuming it was going to be. When Mando pitched finding a place to lay low, I didn’t think it’d be in the middle of a close-knit group of people. I thought we’d be camping out near a village, away from other people who would want to try and get to know us too well._ You tried to calm down by taking a few slow breaths, but you knew you were beginning to panic a little. _I can’t give out too many personal details or get too close to these people. I can’t leave a trail here, especially now that Mando and I are on the run. But what if being around so many talkative people makes me talkative too, even more than usual? What if I accidentally reveal too much, about myself or Mando or our situation? What if they somehow figure out -_

You took a deeper breath and held it, your left hand going to your left hip subconsciously, where you knew you were permanently marked, practically _disfigured_ \- 

_What if they figure out I was a -_

_That I used to be a -_

“Scraps!”

A hand fell heavily on your shoulder, making you jump and spin around to see Mando standing behind you, his hand still held out from where he was trying to get your attention. 

“Uh, sorry,” you said, shaking your head a bit to try and physically dispel the stormy thoughts you were having, “What did you say?”

He lowered his hand and stared at you for a moment. “I was trying to ask you something, but you seemed distracted.”

_Please don’t pry, Mando_ , you thought a little desperately as you laughed to try and expel his concern, gesturing to the pile of tools and saying, “Yeah, I was thinking about how I wanted to build this kid a bed to put on the Crest. There’s a lot of trees around here, do you think we have the right tools for cutting down and sanding some wood? Also, do you think we should find or fashion some nails or just tie pieces together for stability?” You then realized that he never said what he wanted to talk about, and you laughed again, sheepishly this time, and said, “Sorry, I’m getting a bit carried away. What did you want to ask?”

Mando continued to stare at you, not speaking for a long moment before saying, “I wanted to ask which cot you wanted to take for the night.”

“Oh!” you said, and quickly continued, “It doesn’t matter much to me, and they look identical, so I’ll just take whichever one you don’t. No worries.”

Mando, as usual, didn’t say anything in response. He just walked over to the stack of blankets and grabbed one, getting back to work. For what felt like the first time since you met him, you were actually thankful the conversation had dropped.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Omera had stopped by with a tray of food for the three of you, her daughter trailing behind and stealing glances at the child. With a little encouragement from Omera and an okay from you and Mando, she fed the kid, who looked more than happy to be getting both food and attention at the same time.

You’ll admit, when she asked to play with the kid, you were a little uncertain. Watching how tiny and slow he was compared to Winta, that uncertainty turned to panicked urgency that had you speaking up.

“I’m not so sure - ”

Mando also spoke up, walking towards the child and saying, “I don’t think - ”

“They’ll be fine,” Omera said confidently, stopping you and Mando from going any further.

Mando started again, saying, “I don’t - ”

“They’ll be fine,” Omera reiterated firmly, trying to reassure the two of you with a smile. She gestured to the food she brought and explained, “I noticed neither of you ate, I thought I’d bring some here and leave it for when I go.”

Mando clearly wasn’t expecting this, and said, “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Thank you, Omera,” you said after, but it was pretty clear that Omera was focused on Mando. Mando didn’t seem to notice and continued working with his back to her. You felt a bit bad that she was being ignored, so you tried to strike up a conversation.

“Your daughter is pretty brave,” you observed, “it’s not easy to talk to strangers. You must be very proud.”

She smiled at that and said, “Yes, I am. Winta is a strong child, and is a sort of leader for the other children, but I am afraid that with all the raids on our village that she’ll try to grow up too fast.”

You nodded, and said understandingly, “That can’t be easy on any of you. I hope we can deal with your problem quickly, kids should be allowed to be kids.”

Omera agreed, but something about her seemed … sad. Like she knew what it was like to have to grow up quickly. _You know what that’s like too,_ you thought, _there are many people in this galaxy that had to grow up quickly because of the wars and the Empire. And yet, Sorgan is so remote, I can’t imagine the war or the Empire made too much trouble here. Is Omera from Sorgan? I want to ask her, but I don’t want her to take that as an invitation to ask where I’m from originally. That could end disastrously -_

Omera’s voice brought you back to the hut. She had turned to Mando and said “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

Without facing her, Mando said, “Go ahead.”  
  


“How long has it been since you’ve taken that off?”

_Well THAT was forward,_ you thought, a bit shocked, _looks like Winta got her courage from her mom._

Mando paused, and then answered evasively. “Yesterday.”

Omera clarified, “I meant in front of someone else.”

_She must not be familiar with the Creed, or with Mandalorians in general,_ you thought as Mando turned around and gestured towards the kids playing outside. He said, “I wasn’t much older than they are.”

Omera watched the children for a few beats, before turning back to Mando with an expression of sorrow and pity, an expression that immediately pissed you off.

“You haven’t shown your face to anyone since you were a _kid_?” she said, disbelieving. 

_Alright, she clearly doesn’t get it. Not that I completely understand either, but this is too much for me._ Before Mando could respond, you spoke to Omera in a tone devoid of judgement or harshness, but was still firm and left no room for argument.

“Isn’t that just amazing?”

Neither of them expected that, judging by the way they stared at you and didn’t say a word. Deciding to continue, you said, “I think it’s impressive. It takes a lot of conviction and dedication to be a Mandalorian and follow their Creed. There aren’t many people who can cut it.”

Omera didn’t respond to that, just nodded and turned to leave, saying, “Let us know if there’s anything either of you need.” You bid her a polite goodbye, but Mando didn’t speak a word or take his eyes off you during this exchange.

His gaze, even though you couldn’t see it, was heavy and made you feel self-conscious. _Should I have kept my mouth shut? Is he irritated with me? Maker, why is he still staring at me?_ Trying to break the tension, you turned towards the tray of food and started taking bits of it, saying, “Well, I’m going to take my lunch outside, it looks delicious.”

“Did you really mean that?” he asked you, still staring.

“Yes, I did,” you said with an evasive smile and breezy tone, “You know I’m a big fan of whole grain bread - ”

“Scraps.”

You sighed, and said more seriously, “Yes, I really did. I find you very admirable, I always have.” Turning to face him, you smiled exasperatedly at him and teasingly said, “Now stop fishing for compliments! You’ll find that I am a very shallow lake.” Picking up your portion of the food, you stopped by the door and left with, “Tomorrow let’s start hunting for those raiders, I’m ready to get this over with and take a good long vacation!”

* * *

That night, true to his word, Mando slept in full armor in plain view of where you were laying. He and the child had fallen asleep quickly over an hour ago, but you were having more trouble getting your mind to stop running. For the last couple minutes, all you could think about was how the people here lived day-to-day. _I mean, they can’t bathe where they farm krill, that would be disgusting. And what do they use to clean their clothes? Is there running water somewhere nearby that they go to?_ Exasperated by yourself, you thought, _Maker, Scraps, just focus on your breathing or the wall or something! Stop thinking and go to bed!_

You turned on your side and watched the little kid breathe for a while. You thought about how he looked when you and Mando rescued him, how his breathing was so weak then compared to what it was now. _I still feel horrible for what we did to him,_ you thought as you pillowed your head with your hands, _I’m glad we were able to help him in the end, though. I’m glad he had someone to help save him, just like I had someone to help save me -_

You sharply inhaled, about to mentally change the subject, but then you thought about where you were. On a remote planet, far from any Imperial or New Republic or Guild reach, only a few feet away from your closest friend and companion, even if he was asleep. If you couldn’t sleep, maybe it would help to go outside for a bit and reminisce for a while, get it out of your head and do a sort of system restart.

As quietly as you could, you got out of bed and walked barefoot to the porch, grabbing your socks and boots on the way out and closing the door as quietly as possible. You sat down on the dirt and laced up your shoes, getting back up to your feet again and walking towards the many ponds that were used to farm krill. The water was still, and it was easy to see your reflection staring back at you. _Maker, the older I get, the more like my parents I look_ , you thought without much emotion, _Now that I think about it, I’m about the age they were when they were when they died. Aunt Bracca too._

You slowly stooped down to sit cross-legged at the edge of one of the ponds, lazily running your hand through the edge to watch the ripples while you thought. _That’s right, I dreamt about my parents and Aunt Bracca last night._ You brow furrowed. _It’s strange, it’s been some time since I thought back to those particular times._ You huffed and shook your head. _Everything went out of control so fast. It all started when Aunt Bracca didn’t come home._

Taking a deep breath, you lost yourself in the memories that followed that dark night. 

* * *

_The next morning, your babbo and four other men took the last remaining transporter and went west, traveling along the only viable path that you knew your Aunt Bracca would’ve taken. They weren’t expected back for three or four days, and in that time you had never seen your mammina so stressed and worried. She lost herself in her work, making clothes and patching up older garments for the other villagers at a breakneck pace, working well into the night and waking up early to continue. You kept her company, helping her by taking the easier fixes while she did the more complex tasks, bringing her food from inside and keeping your cups filled with water from a nearby stream. You rambled to fill the silence, and although your ‘mina didn’t answer you sometimes or paid too much attention, you knew she appreciated the filler noise._

_Three days later, the transporter was spotted on the horizon. You and your mammina rushed to the village edge, trying to catch sight of who was on board. As it approached, you could see your father and his team, and to your relief you could make out Aunt Bracca’s dark, curly hair._

_“‘Mina, ‘Mina! They found her!” you said to her excitedly, grabbing her arm and pointing._

_Your mother let out a deep sigh of relief, clasping your hand in hers and quickly kissing the back of it. While the transporter drew closer, you started to notice something strange. Your babbo has his arm wrapped around Aunt Bracca, and she was leaning heavily into him, like she didn’t have the ability to sit up on her own._

_Your mammina noticed this too, and said a stern, “Stay here,” before rushing forward to meet the transport halfway. When she got there, they stopped, and you could see her pull Bracca forward into an embrace, which looked weakly reciprocated. Babbo and Aunt Bracca were talking to ‘Mina quickly, your Babbo waving his hands as he spoke while the other four men jumped off, running towards the rest of the town._

_You were getting more frightened, and decided to go towards the transporter where your family was. As you got closer, you noticed that Bracca was injured, blood seeping down her side and her face bruised, more blood running down her face from a cut near her hairline. When you got close enough, you could hear what she was so desperately trying to tell your mother._

_“ - no one left, they killed everyone!”_

_You gasped, your heart filling with ice. What had happened?_

_Your mother shook her head in disbelief, “Who did this? Why?”_

_Bracca took a few ragged breathes and said, “Death- deathtroopers. Deathtroopers. They slaughtered them all, my god it was_ horrible _\- “_

_“Bracca,” your mother said calmly but urgently, grasping Bracca’s shoulders and looking her in the eye at her level, “Are they coming here?”_

_Bracca continued to breath raggedly, and she nodded quickly. “They’re - they’re taking over Aviva, they’re here for the_ kids _.”_

_Your babbo and mammina looked at each other quickly, and then focused back to Bracca, who was wheezing more and more. “Bracca,” your mother said again, “What do they want with the kids?”_

_“I don’t - I don’t know,” she said, agonized, “They could be here anytime, you all have to flee, now!”_

_“Okay, okay,” you ‘mina said, starting to pull Bracca towards the edge of the transporter, “Let’s go, I’ll wrap that for you and we’ll find a ship out of here.”_

_Your parents helped your aunt to her feet, supporting her on either side._

_“Scraps!” your ‘mina said with all the authority of a scared parent, “You stay right at my side, you understand me?”_

_“Yes,” you said, scared, gripping the edge of her dress while you followed them back towards your small home nearer to the center of the town. Bracca continued to groan as they walked with her, and she kept babbling to your mother and apologizing. For what, to this day you couldn’t exactly say._

_Though, none of this ended up mattering. Your village was under attack before you even made it home._

* * *

You sighed and continued running your hand across the water, remembering your family, your parents and aunt, and how after that day you had been left utterly alone. 

_Not completely alone, though_. You tried to put it all in a better perspective, though you still allowed yourself to feel the pain of long ago loss. _Since then, I was adopted by Mom and made some friends along the way._ Thinking of Mando, you felt a small smile tug at your lips.

_Still,_ you sobered, _I lost my first family that day. Those deathtroopers killed nearly everyone I had ever known and afterwards, they took us away. I still can’t stomach the sight of them._ You leaned back on your hands, staring up at the stars, wondering if there was anyone left on your home planet of Aviva. As far as you were aware, everyone was either killed or taken off world. You hadn’t met another Avivan since then, and you could never be completely sure what ended up happening to the rest of the children that were taken.

_But,_ you thought with a weight in your chest, your hand now pressing up against your left hip intentionally, over the fabric covering the large circle of scar tissue that you knew showed the Imperial insignia, _I have a pretty good fucking idea._

You heard a coo from behind you, and you quickly turned to see the child walking towards you. He must’ve followed you out here, and he looked sleepy, but was determined to make it to your side. Shaking your head fondly, you picked him up when he got within your reach, cradling him to your chest and rocking him gently.

“Hey kiddo,” you said quietly, not wanting to wake anybody up, “Did you come out here to give me company?”

A quiet snore was all the answer you got, and you chuckled under your breath. You got back up to your feet and made your way back to the barn you and Mando shared. As you walked closer, you saw that Mando was watching you walk back, casually leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Mando?” you whispered to him when you got there, the child still slumbering against your shoulder, “What are you doing up?”

“Well,” he replied just as quietly, though his vocoder made him louder by default, “I noticed the little one escaping, but when I saw he went straight to you, I figured I’d wait for you to come back.”

You smiled fondly at him and said, “That was very sweet of you, Mando. You didn’t have to wait up for us. In fact,” and you bumped the kid up a bit higher on your shoulder for emphasis, “this little guy fell asleep as soon as I picked him up, the little pest. It’s like I’m his personal heater or something.”

He quietly laughed and gestured for you to come inside. You obliged and placed the child back in his crib while Mando shut the door behind you.

“So,” he said, still speaking quietly to not wake the baby, “hard time sleeping?”

You sighed and nodded, “Yeah, I decided to take a late stroll. I was just thinking.”

“Yeah, you do that a lot,” he said, ribbing you a bit, before saying, “Anything you want to talk about?”

_Oh Mando, I really wish I could, but I can’t,_ you thought sadly, _I trust you, but this is something that goes beyond a matter of trust._

“No, but thank you,” you decided to say, wishing that things could be different. 

Mando nodded, but before he made a move to go back to bed, he said in a soft and sincere voice, “You know we’re friends, right? You can talk to me about anything.”

Unexpectedly, you felt your eyes mist a bit, and you wished so strongly that you could tell him more about your past. You nodded, but couldn’t get any words past the lump in your throat. He nodded once as an acknowledgement, and the two of you got back to bed.

  
_I’m so glad we’re friends Mando, but there are so many things about me that I don’t want you or anyone to ever find out. Ever. After all,_ you thought traitorously to yourself before falling asleep, _who would ever want to be friends with an ex-Imperial slave?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe out there, and happy holidays!


	10. How to train a village of people in the art of not dying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in episode 4, and it explores the training and preparations taken before the fight against the raiders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, baby!
> 
> I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. As a thank you for sticking with me, I made this chapter longer than the average chapter. I hope you enjoy it and had a happy holiday season!
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy!

At the start of the next day, you, Mando, and Cara decided to scope out the area and gauge how bad this raider problem truly was. Mando woke up ready to go, having slept in his armor all night. It didn’t take long for you to prepare either, just throwing on a different outfit and lacing up your boots. The kid, on the other hand…

“C’mon, you can’t go with us,” you said placatingly, kneeling at his level to be face-to-face with the upset green toddler. His ears were pointed down and his brow was furrowed, his dark eyes wide while his lip trembled. Honestly, you’d say it was cute if it wasn’t so guilt-inducing. Omera was waiting at the entrance to the barn, her daughter not far off with some of the other children. She had offered to watch him while you and Mando headed off, but the kid was definitely _not_ happy about it.

Mando sighed and said, “He seemed fine to go off yesterday.”

You shrugged and shook your head; you weren’t sure either. _Is he nervous to be left alone with strangers? But Mando’s right, he seemed fine with it yesterday when he went to play with the other kids. Maybe he’s shy?_ You reached out and picked up the kid, rocking back up to your feet while he dug his claws into your shirt. _No, it looks like he doesn’t want us to leave, which would fit given the death grip he has on me,_ you thought, wincing as his claws dug into the skin on your chest.

Omera looked very understanding, and said, “Kids have shifting comfort zones; sometimes they’re okay with something one way or day, and flip on it the next.” She held her arms out, and you tried to get him to let go to pass him off, but he wasn’t having any of it. Thankfully, Omera didn’t seem offended at the rejection. You stopped tugging when he whimpered, bringing him back to your chest and rubbing a hand over his back while you sighed deeply. _Should I stay back here? He really doesn’t seem all that comfortable with any of this and I don’t necessarily need to go out scouting with Cara and Mando…_

Mando placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Give him to me.”

You chuckled and said, “Would love to, but I think he’s trying to use me as a scratching post.”

He reached out and the child allowed him to gently lift him up and off of you, bringing him to his chest where the kid unsuccessfully tried to burrow into his beskar.

“Alright kid,” Mando said authoritatively, “You need to stay with Omera for a while. We’ll be back soon.” He then tried to pass the child to her, but stopped when the kid practically squawked, making Mando flinch and pull him back to his chest. The kid was staring at you and Mando with large, wet eyes. _He needs to stay here. This is a good thing,_ you reminded yourself, _he’ll have separation problems if he doesn’t socialize or have time to himself. He needs to be around other kids -_

You were suddenly struck with inspiration. “Omera,” you asked, “Is it alright if I borrow Winta for a bit?”

Omera seemed to catch on to what you were thinking; she smiled and nodded, and you quickly made your way outside to find the young girl. It wasn’t hard to find her in such a small village with so few children and buildings. She was with about a dozen other kids, running around in a game of tag.

“Hey Winta?” You called out to her politely, not wanting her to think she was obligated to do what you were about to ask. She quickly stopped and turned towards you, looking a little apprehensive at being addressed directly by an adult stranger, but not necessarily afraid of you. “Can I ask you for a favor?”

She nodded, then you smiled and said, “The little green guy I came with? He’s a bit nervous to be here without me and Mando nearby, and I thought you might be able to help. Your mom said she would watch him while we’re gone, but I’d feel better knowing he had a good friend with him too. Do you think you can do that?”

At the mention of the kid, Winta was obviously sold. She nodded eagerly and headed back to the barn with you, smiling so wide you couldn’t help but smile with her. Walking in, you could see the child was still on Mando’s arm and had managed to get a singular claw into the fabric of his cape. Mando was gently grabbing the little hand, trying to dislodge him.

“Mando,” you said with a confident grin and outstretched arms, “I got this.”

He silently handed the kid back over (not an easy feat, but the child relented when he caught sight of you), and you kneeled down to set him on the ground in front of you. “Alright kid,” you said gently but firmly while he looked up at you with his huge eyes, “Mando and I need to go and take care of business. You are going to stay here, but you’ll be with Omera and Winta and they’re going to take good care of you until we get back, okay?” 

You looked up encouragingly to Winta, who got the message and quickly went to your side, kneeling next to the child. “Do you want to go play some more?”

The kid looked between you and Mando and then to Winta, now looking a bit torn. He looked at the ground, contemplating. _He needs reassurance,_ you thought, trying to think of what you could do to reassure him, _What would be reassuring for a kid? What did I find reassuring when I was a kid?_

Before you had finished processing the thought, old and long unused muscle memory took over. You reached out and took hold of one of his little hands, then leaned down and quickly pressed a kiss into the back of it. He looked shocked and confused by the action, and you were shocked and confused at yourself. Laughing a bit awkwardly, you ruffled the peach fuzz on top of his head and said, “We’ll be back soon, okay? Don’t cause too much trouble.”

Before the kid could stop you again, you and Mando walked out of the barn and towards the edge of the village where Cara would be waiting. The two of you walked in silence, which gave you time to think for a bit.

Looking at the ground as you walked next to Mando, you thought strategy. _Alright, the kid will be taken care of, now all we have to deal with is the raiders. How many of them will there be? Are they humanoid or human? What types of weapons do they use? I guess that one doesn’t matter much, there isn’t anything out here that can stop a blaster shot. Well, besides Mando’s beskar. Why are they raiding such a small village anyway? Is this really all just over spotchka? You’d think for the amount of trouble they’re going to they’d be taking more than just krill and half-brewed spotchka. What does it even taste like? Cara seemed to like it enough, and lots of people at that bar were drinking it. Would I like it? Would Mando? Wait, might have to scratch that last one, I’ve never seen him drink anything, and he never explicitly said he was human so he might not_ have _to drink -_

“You were good with him back there.”

At Mando’s raspy voice, you looked up from the ground to his visor. You laughed a bit awkwardly and, not sure what to say to the compliment, stuck with a simple, “Thanks.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, then turned his helmet towards you a bit and asked, “Do you have experience with kids?”

At this, you genuinely laughed. “No, not really. Never even babysat.” You glanced at him and asked, “What about you?”

He shook his head with a sigh, “No, not really. Though,” he said as though the thought just occurred to him, “I have babysat before.”

_Mando, babysitting? That must have been quite the sight._ “Like when you were a kid for younger kids, or for a friend’s kids?”

He considered it for a moment and said, “More like a comrade’s kids, and not often.”

“Comrades? Like other bounty hunters?”

He paused, then said simply, “No, comrades-in-arms. Other Mandalorians.”

You nodded, though you were a little surprised by his answer. _He’s never mentioned any other Mandalorians before, but if he’s Mandalorian obviously he must’ve known some at one point. I wonder why he’s never brought them up before. Are they still alive? Maybe they had some sort of falling out? I want to know but I don’t want to press him for details, especially if the answer is painful to talk about. Plus,_ you thought reasonably, _I can’t tell him much about my past, so it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to tell me about his._

_But,_ you thought more soberly, _can people really be friends if they don’t know much about each other and their pasts? Could they ever fully trust one another, or would they always be wondering what secrets lie in wait in the darkness? If Mando ever found out about my past, what would he think? What would he say?_

Your thoughts stalled when you caught sight of Cara waiting at the treeline, stance strong and arms crossed as she watched the two of you approach. She looked nonchalant, but when she saw you you thought she looked a bit annoyed. _Well, we_ did _keep her waiting,_ you thought sheepishly, _I should probably apologize._

Mando broke the ice as soon as you reached her, saying, “Are you ready?”

She raised an eyebrow and said cockily, “Have been. Are you two?”

Mando gave her a simple, “Yes.” 

As the three of you began to trace the raiders’ trail, you spoke to Cara. “Sorry we’re late,” you said apologetically as you carefully walked through the underbrush next to her, “It took a while to get the kid calmed down enough for us to leave. I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“It’s not a big deal,” she said, all signs of irritation gone with your short explanation, then glanced in your direction with a crooked grin and said, “It’s not like I have anything else to do today. Gave me a chance to enjoy the view.”

You smiled back at her and continued picking your way along the beaten trail. It didn’t take long for you to come to a clearing that had some obvious signs of recent damage. The dirt and soil was packed tight in places from repeated footfalls. _Easily over a dozen of them,_ you thought to yourself, stooping down to look at the faint outlines of footprints. _Judging by the size and shape, they’re definitely humanoid, approximately six feet tall, give or take a few inches. They were wearing shoes, so they must have feet similar to a human’s, meaning they can run and can’t climb trees any better than a human. Though, if that’s the case…_ looking upwards, you saw that the branches were damaged fairly high up, about twenty feet above the ground, _then how did that happen?_

Mando looked around and gave his assessment. “About fifteen to twenty of them came through here on foot.” Glancing up at the branches, he said, “And something big sheared off those branches.”

Following Mando as he walked to the edge of the clearing, you said, “Whatever it was, it wasn’t the raiders. Do they have some sort of long-range attack or weapons? But why damage the trees? That can’t be intentional, it must be something big and clunky that’s hard to maneuver in the foliage. Unless it _was_ intentional, and was some kind of ritualistic thing - ”

Cara’s voice pulled you back to reality. She said, “Does this answer your question?”

Quickly looking over to what she was kneeling at you saw a huge footprint, one that you weren’t personally familiar with. However, it didn’t take much to get to the correct conclusion; there were only a handful of machines that could make a print like that.

You could feel your eyes widen at the realization. “Maker, is that…?”

Cara nodded solemnly. “AT-ST.”

Mando shook his head and said, “An imperial walker? What’s it doing all the way out here?”

Cara kept her eyes on the tracks while she stood up, saying, “I don’t know, but this is more than I signed up for.”

Mando sighed, gestured back to the village, and said, “Let’s head back.”

Falling in step next to Mando, you started to fill the silence before it had a chance to settle. “Sorgan seems so remote, how did a walker get all the way out here? It can’t have been seriously used out here during the war, it wouldn’t last long in terrain like this. Not even speeder bikes would be useful out here. Though, judging by the tracks and the height it must be fully operational. God the guns on those things are ridiculously overcharged; they require regular maintenance and upkeep or else they’ll overheat and blow up. Would low-scale raiders know how to fix a machine like that? You know, assuming it was broken when it got here or had been broken since. I doubt they had the materials to build it from scratch, and that wouldn’t fit the prints left behind - ”

From a ways behind you, you heard Cara mutter sarcastically, “Does she usually do this?”

You heard Mando answer her. “All the time.”

Blushing, you turned around to see that Mando and Cara were a solid ten feet behind you. Cara had a crooked grin on her face, and Mando was … well he was standing in a way that seemed amused. Or judgmental. Or both.

Scowling and a bit embarrassed, you asked, “What’s the hold up?”

Cara chuckled and raised her hands placatingly, saying, “Hey, you’re the one going a mile a minute. Give us a chance to catch up, Scraps.”

The nickname still hit a pang in your chest, but you realized that it didn’t seem as bad as it was when Cara had used it earlier. _That’s probably a good thing,_ you thought, _hopefully it’ll feel normal hearing it again after all this time. Either way, it’s a step up from not having a name at all I suppose._

You nodded, still blushing, and waited for them to catch up to fall back in line. 

“So,” you ventured, slipping your hands in your pockets and glancing at your two companions, “Who’s going to break it to them?”

* * *

“Bad news. You can’t live here anymore.”

_Oh Mando, you fucking moron,_ you cringed, bringing a hand to your face, _that was about the worst way to tell them that._ The shocked reaction from the villagers confirmed as much. If that wasn’t enough, Cara sarcastically said, “Nice bedside manner.”

Unimpressed, Mando turned to her and said, “You think you can do better?”

“A bantha could’ve done better,” you muttered under your breath, causing Cara to snort beside you. Mando gave you an even more unimpressed look that you returned with a halfway apologetic shrug.

Cara took over, explaining the dangers of taking on the AT-ST while the villagers fought her on every word, pleading with her despite being hopelessly outgunned. They even offered to learn to fight to protect their homes, which was impressive in your mind, but still unrealistic. _Fighting back on Aviva didn’t do much good, they massacred my village in less than a day. But then again, their enemies aren’t as skilled as deathtroopers, so maybe they’d have better odds. Still,_ you thought, pressing a fist to your mouth as Cara continued to argue with them, _they’d be absolutely foolish to try. They should just relocate._

It didn’t become too serious until Omera spoke up, leaving no room for argument or negotiation. 

“We’re not leaving.” Her eyes and face were steady, and you could see where Winta got her leadership skills from. In all honesty, it seemed more and more than Omera was the matriarch of this little village. _If that’s true, then there’s no way they’ll leave now,_ you thought, heart sinking, _If they stay, they’ll either die or starve. What on earth is she_ thinking _?_

“You cannot _fight_ that thing,” Cara said, emphasizing the danger, trying to impress how much of a bad idea this was.

At your side, Mando spoke up. “Unless we show them how.”

You and Cara whirled around to look at him. He was casually leaning against the hut, acting like he didn’t just offer up the worst possible option for these peoples’ survival. _What on earth is_ he _thinking? Is it something in the air?_

“Are you insane?” you asked him quietly, stepping up to him while the townspeople behind you continued to talk amongst themselves, “They’ll be killed if they try to fight.”

Mando didn’t move from his position, but turned to look at you and said, “They’d be killed if they tried to fight with no training. This is their home. If they want to fight, we can teach them how.”

_Maker, this is such a bad idea._ The stress was starting to rise in your chest, and you took a deep breath to try and keep calm. “Mando,” you said with all the gravity you could muster, “I really don’t want to watch this village get slaughtered.”

“They won’t.” Now he stood up, facing you fully. “We can train them to defend themselves and help keep them safe. Cara and I can handle the mech, and I know you could handle most of the bandits on your own with the right equipment.”

You shook your head. “This is a terrible idea. They’d be better off relocating.”

“Would you relocate, if you were them?” he asked seriously.

“If it meant keeping myself and my family safe? In a heartbeat.”

He didn’t react, just asked, “And then what?” 

“‘And then what’?” you repeated, starting to get a bit heated, the anger and stress burning hot together next to your heart, “I don’t know Mando, maybe I’d enjoy breathing oxygen. Living to see another sunrise. You tell me.”

“You’d spend some time living peacefully, rebuilding what you lost, and then a few months or years down the line the raiders will come back and continue to raid,” he explained logically, “They will deplete the resources they stole and find more resources to exploit. This village will be right back where they started. At least now they have the three of us to help them to end this here and now.”

You could feel that you were starting to lose this battle, but you didn’t want to give up quite so easily. Even though it felt flimsy, you argued, “You don’t know that for sure; there’s a chance they could relocate and not be bothered again.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he said.

You sighed and scrubbed a hand down your face. “Yeah, yeah I know. But you can’t say that they’ll be okay if they fight either.” At this point, you broke eye contact with his visor and said quietly, “Look, places like this get razed to the ground all the time because of Imps and their tech. If at all possible, I’d prefer to not have to watch this place suffer like that. So, I need you to be completely honest with me when I ask you this.” Looking back to him, you continued. “Do you think they have a chance to come out of this on top? Not just a chance, but a _good_ chance?”

He nodded firmly, saying a simple and confident, “Yes.”

You let out a long breath and after deliberating for a few more moments, you decided to relent. If Mando _and_ the villagers were on board, you’d rather help them than stubbornly stand on the sidelines. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he repeated.

“Fine,” you said back, “I’ll trust you on this one, Mando, but you owe me one. Like, a _big_ one.”

He huffed, the beskar on his chest rising with the action, and said, “Deal, Scraps. I owe you one. Now, let’s get started.”

* * *

In the end, the plan was more solid than you were expecting it to be. Barricade the edges of the village to force the raiders to come at you all from the front, provoke the AT-ST into stepping into a trap, and pick them all off from there. The villagers and raiders were matched in numbers, but the village had a Mandalorian, a Rebellion veteran, an engineer that had been in more than a few scrapes, and home field advantage on their side. Their odds might be better than you had originally anticipated, but you were still wary about the outcome of the fight.

Mando was in charge of marksmanship, offering up his extensive blaster collection for the village to use. Cara was taking care of the hand-to-hand combat training, teaching them how to use hand-crafted spears and defend themselves from attacks.

And you? You were in charge of fighting them.

“I’m not so sure about this,” Caben said nervously as Mando thrust a blunt wooden spear into his hands.

“Oh, c’mon Caben,” you said while you rolled your shoulders and grabbed the spear Mando offered you, “I promise I won’t kick your ass too hard.”

“Very encouraging,” Mando sarcastically muttered under his breath to you while he walked out of fighting range. You had designated a spot for this type of training, purposefully choosing a spot that had ponds cutting through it to make the terrain more difficult to navigate.

Mando was right; Caben was certainly not encouraged. Trying to reason his way out of it, he said “I thought you were an engineer, how is fighting you going to help us against raiders?”

“Well,” you said evenly, testing out the weight of the spear in your hands, “These raiders aren’t soldiers, right?”

“Uh, yeah, but - ”

“They’re completely untrained in formal combat,” you continued, resting the flat end of the wooden spear on the ground and looking back up to him, “I am _also_ untrained in formal combat.”

Caben, confused, just said a slow, “Yes.”

“So,” you drew the word out just as slow, “It’s likely that _my_ way of fighting will be closer to what the raiders will do than what Cara or Mando will do. They both have formal training in hand-to-hand combat. They won’t have any problem going head-to-head with these guys, but you will. Fighting me will give you something that will be crucial to your survival and success.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, seeming more on board with the training.

“Experience,” you said firmly, emphasizing the point with an equally firm jab of your spear into the ground, “Practice. Knowing how to do something and actually doing it are completely different things. At least this way, you’ll have a better idea of what being in a fight is actually like. Now, are you ready to start?”

Caben, while convinced it was at least a semi-good idea, still looked very unsure and nervous. Nevertheless, he raised his spear and got into the basic defensive stance Cara had taught him.

Showing full teeth in a savage mockery of a smile, you mirrored his stance and shouted, “Good, now come at me!”

* * *

“Sorry about that, Caben,” you said sincerely, grasping his hand and yanking him up off the ground for the third time. “Next time, don’t be afraid to make use of the terrain. You had a chance to push me into the water, that would’ve given you the upper hand and made it easy to attack me.”

“You know,” he panted, bent over as he tried to regain his breath, “for an engineer who quote unquote ‘doesn’t have any formal combat training’, you fight pretty well.”

You laughed awkwardly and said, “Not well, just dirty. Travelling with a bounty hunter had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks. Needing to know how to fight at some capacity was necessary.” Helping him to a straighter position you rambled a bit more. “That and for a short period of time I worked on Nar Shaddaa, and let me tell you, that place is _lawless_. If you couldn’t fight you’d be totally screwed.”

You had been cycling through this batch of villagers, and everybody at this point had had a chance to fight with you and get some pointers. _Now, I can’t let them get too used to fighting me, they need experience against other opponents._

“Alright, listen up!” you called out to your group, who immediately stopped chatting and turned to face you. “Now I want you to practice with each other. Change partners every few minutes. And the love of the Maker, don’t injure anyone too badly. Those spears are blunt, but they still can cause damage.”

They followed your orders right away, practicing the techniques Cara taught them and putting them to good use. _Thank the Maker, I need a break after all that,_ you thought tiredly, making your way over to a nearby log to plant yourself down on, catch your breath, and watch them fight.

It didn’t take long for you to hear the quiet clanking of beskar and the babbles of the kid coming from your right. Glancing over you saw Mando walking in your direction, the child on his arm and a cup in his other hand.

“Thought you might need this,” he said simply, passing you a cup filled nearly to the brim with cool water. You smiled at him, drinking nearly half of it in one go while he sat down next to you.

Gasping when you finished, you quickly wiped the drops running down the side of your mouth and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Mando.”

“No problem.”

The kid squirmed in his grasp until Mando relented and placed him on the log between the two of you. He quickly crawled into your lap, looking up at you and babbling about his day. You smiled and rubbed one of his ears while he messed with a wooden toy one of the other kids most have lent him, leaving long, thin scratches down the sides of it.

_He’s been scratching a lot, does his species need to shed layers off their claws? That wouldn’t make much sense though, the kid looks more amphibious or reptilian than feline, and the only species I know that do that are felines. Maybe it’s like teething, but for his claws?_ You watched his as he put another scratch down the side, catching the way he looked longingly at the thing in his hands.

_He doesn’t have any toys of his own,_ you realized, looking at the scratches, _I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner, Mando and I definitely need to fix that as soon as we’re done with the raiders. I wonder what he would like; maybe something soft he can cuddle with when he goes to bed? But he might rip the thing to shreds with those claws… Though, it could teach him how to be more careful; the kid left some nasty scratches on me the other day when he wouldn’t let go. Some self control could do wonders._

“What are you thinking about?” Mando asked. His voice was raspy (well, raspier than usual), like he hadn’t said much of anything today until now when he came over to sit with you.

You looked up to him with a small smile and said, “The kid. I think we should make him some toys so he won’t have to bum them off the other kids.”

He nodded, and you both turned forward to watch the villagers spar. You continued when he didn’t speak. “It also might be good to make him some more clothes; his little robe is cute, but Maker knows how old it is.”

“I don’t know how to make clothes,” he said honestly, “Maybe one of the villagers could help us with that.”

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “No need.” At his curious head tilt, you elaborated. “I know how to make clothes, even from scratch.”

Your mammina had been a clothes maker after all. You spent your whole childhood learning how to make and fix clothes; a baby’s robe or onesie would be a piece of cake. You thought he might ask about it, but he simply nodded to acknowledge what you’d said and went back to watching the fights. You did the same, sipping the water Mando gave you and rubbing the edge of the child’s ear.

After a while, you struck up the conversation again. “So Mando, still think these guys have a shot?”

“Yes,” he answered, and then said sincerely, “Thank you for helping with their training.”

You nodded with an easy grin. “Happy to help! Though I hope your marksmanship lessons will be enough to avoid any physical fights.”

He turned a bit in your direction and asked, “Any promising students?”

“Well,” you said, considering, propping your elbow on your knee and leaning forward to rest your head on your hand, “Almost all are beginners, so they’ve improved a lot, but only one of them managed to throw me on the ground.”

“Who?” Mando inquired, interest clear in his voice.

“Omera,” you said, and then gestured out to where she was sparring with Stoke, clearly overtaking him, “She’s a natural. Had me picking weeds out of my hair by the end of it.”

Mando watched her for a moment, then said, “She knew how to handle a blaster. She’s a good shot.”

You whistled appreciatively, and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while. The kid had fallen asleep on your lap, snoring softly with one hand clutching the wooden toy and the other poking holes into the hem of your shirt. After a while, Mando sighed and lurched up to his feet.

“Heading off?” you asked him, not getting up and risk waking the kid up.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m going back to the hut for lunch, can you - ”

“Watch this little guy?” you finished for him. He nodded. You smiled and said brightly, “Of course! It’s the highlight of my afternoon.”

He laughed once in his quiet, huffy way and walked off. You watched him go for a while, his tattered cape swaying with each step, and you felt a heaviness in your chest. For the life of you, though, you couldn’t figure out what it was.

* * *

This routine continued for a week and a half, and after all the drilling, training, and preparing, Mando and Cara had deemed the villagers ready to take on the raiders. All that was left was for you all to figure out how to hide and protect the kids during the actual fight. This was a job you decided to take on with Omera, since you thought she should have final say as the unofficial leader of the village.

“I would’ve said we could stick them up in the trees, but with that mech I think it’s a disaster waiting to happen,” you said, sticking your hands in your pockets as the two of you walked at the back of the village, the furthest point from where the action would be.

She hummed in agreement, glancing around the terrain. “I would’ve said put them underground, but I don’t think there’s time to dig,” she joked.

You chuckled and kept wracking your brain. “We could put them in a house, fortify it well and keep them quiet and out of sight. Then the main goal would be to keep the raiders on the other side of the town.”

She nodded in agreement. “There’s not much we can do with the surrounding area as it is, and I don’t want to take them too far from the village. You never know what’s out in the woods at night.”

_Scraps, you have to be careful playing outside after dark. Aviva is full of nocturnal predators that can lie out in wait…_

With a shaky breath you nodded back to her. “So it’s settled,” you said firmly, turning to face her, “We’ll put the kids in one of these buildings, barricade the hell out of it, and make sure no one gets within a hundred yards of it.” Pausing for a moment in thought, you said, “Should we leave any of the adults here with them?”

To your surprise, she shook her head. “If I wanted any of them here, it would’ve been you, me, Mando, or Cara. I think we’re worth more on the front. Besides,” she said this next piece more seriously, “if the raiders get this far then they probably killed us all. The kids’ best chance then will be to hide. An adult trying to protect them will only draw attention to them.”

_Well, that’s a pleasant thought,_ you thought sarcastically, _but she’s not wrong._

“Good point,” you said, and then gently inquired, “How are you and Winta handling everything?”

Omera sighed tiredly. “I’m fine, this isn’t exactly anything new for me,” she admitted, “I’m worried about Winta, but she is a strong girl. She was like that even before her father died - ”

At this she cut herself off, and when she spoke again her voice was thick and colored with grief, “As long as this goes the way we want, she’ll be fine.”

You nodded, and, never quite sure what to say in these types of situations, said quietly, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She said a polite thank you, and you dropped the subject. It was clearly still very painful for her.

“I don’t know about you,” you said jokingly, trying to lighten her up a bit before you parted ways, “but I feel like Caben and Stoke should get started on fortifying this building. Those two are _huge_ slackers and I wouldn’t mind seeing them sweat a little.”

To your relief, she laughed, those it was weak and a bit watery. “I barely trust those two to farm krill,” she said with a devastatingly judgmental tone, “and the last time I saw Stoke try to chop wood he almost cut Caben’s head off.”

You laughed a bit at that, “Maker, Omera, how does that even happen?”

She gave you a mischievous smile and said, “Stoke told him to watch his swing. Apparently, Caben wanted a front row seat.”

You laughed out loud at that, and you were much happier when Omera joined in with you. The two of you began making your way back to the center of the village, chatting lightly as you both tried to forget for a while what you were planning on doing. Soon, the village would be ready for a full-scale invasion of raiders and their murderous mech.

You weren’t sure how it was all going to end, but you prayed to the Maker it would end up better for them than it did for you and Aviva.


	11. Commence Plan ATST: Attack Those Stealing Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scraps, Mando, Cara, Omera, and the rest of the villagers protect their home. Cara and Din have a personal conversation. Goes through the village battle on Sorgan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am SO happy to do done writing action for a while; I kept writing and rewriting these scenes and I still am not fully satisfied with them. But! I am moving on and using it as a learning experience for the future. Let me know what you think, positive or negative! Have a great night!

_The village is completely fortified and the villagers are trained. Now, all that’s left is to hide the kids and start this whole mess._ You sighed, and continued repeatedly going over the gameplan in your head. You stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Mando as the sunset painted the green village a brilliant orange, watching as Omera and the other parents reassured their kids before leading them to their designated safehouse.

The village’s resident green bean was perched on Mando’s arm and holding onto one of his fingers, thoroughly distracted by a dragonfly flying low near the ground. He cooed and pulled on the fabric on Mando’s arm, trying to get him to watch the insect with him. When he didn’t respond quick enough, you put a hand on the child’s back and spoke to fill the quiet.

“Is that a dragonfly, kiddo?” you asked earnestly, pointing at the colorful thing. He cooed in agreement, reaching with his free hand to grab your index finger. You let him, lifting your arm so he could keep his hold. 

_Aw, we’re holding hands, cute._ Your eye followed a line that led from your hand to the kid’s, and then from the kid’s other hand to Mando’s. _And I guess Mando and I are holding hands by transitive property._

Your mind stalled unexpectedly, _jarringly_ , at that thought, but you didn’t move your hand away. 

Looking back to the village, you saw that the last of the kids were being ushered away. Omera stood nearby, giving you a nod that you returned readily. Earlier you had discussed the plan with her, deciding together that she would keep up morale in the time leading up to the confrontation while you secured the kids in their safe house before catching up at the front. At the mutual acknowledgement, she started off towards the opposite side of the village.

It wasn’t long until you saw Cara coming out of her hut, armed to the teeth and ready to go. When she got close enough, she looked at Mando expectantly.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you said heavily, reaching out to take the kid. Mando helped pass him over, running his gloved hand over the edge of his ear as a parting gesture.

“The sun’s setting fast,” Mando remarked, speaking directly to you. “When we come back, we’ll be coming in hot.”

You nodded, “The village and I will cover you guys when you get back.” Turning to Cara with a grin you said, “Do me a favor and make sure this idiot comes back in one piece? He’s practically hopeless without me.”

She chuckled while Mando sighed exasperatedly and said, “Something tells me he’ll be fine.”

You smiled, then turned to Mando one last time and said, “Be safe, alright?”

It wasn’t the first time you’d said those words to him; it had become part of your shared routine not long after you started traveling with him. You expected him to silently nod and start off into the forest; it would be the typically stoic and mysterious response that so easily fit his outward disposition. You were surprised, however, when he reached out to gently grab your shoulder, rubbing his thumb near your collarbone once and offering a quick and quiet, “You too.”

He turned and stalked off towards the forest with Cara before you could answer him or offer any witty response. _Though_ , you thought as you placed your hand where his had just been, the skin under your shirt burning, _I don’t think I can come up with anything particularly clever at the moment. Why did he…? Why would he…?_

You shook your head, walking quickly towards the kids’ settler with the child on your arm. _Focus! Think about it later, Scraps, kick ass now!_

Stopping at the door, you took a moment to rub the top of the kid’s head, smiling softly when he moved to nudge against your palm. He looked up to you with those huge eyes, and as a goodbye you reached out to grab one of his tiny hands, kissing the back of it and then setting him down inside. Thankfully, he didn’t fuss much and didn’t try to get back to you, content to bunker down with the rest of the children.

_Alright, that’s all of them,_ you thought, turning back to leave and secure the door, _I have to get back to the other side of the village. Cara made sure our supplies were there, so I don’t need to worry about grabbing anything. C’mon, let’s do this!_

* * *

Mando was silent as he walked through the forest with Cara, focusing on following the raiders’ path and not alerting anyone to their presence. Though, after years of bounty hunting, these actions came as second nature to him. 

_Cara and I should be able to handle most of these guys on our own,_ he thought as he carefully stepped over the stray twigs and leaves that seemed to litter the path, _and once that AT-ST is operational, it’ll just be a mad dash back to the village. It’ll be a few miles of running, judging by how long it’s taking us to get there._

He stepped over another root. _As long as we make it back to town, Scraps and the rest of the village will have our back._ Glancing down at his hand, he tried to ignore the way it still felt hypersensitive after parting ways with you. Clenching his fist, he exhaled harshly and thought, _Get a hold of yourself, Djarin. It was just a parting gesture between friends._

Despite trying to rationalize it, his mind traitorously whispered to him, _What came over you? You wanted to be closer to her. At that moment, you felt compelled to be. Why?_

Unbiddenly, a memory of her came to his mind, her voice echoing in his suddenly frazzled mindscape - 

_“Mando?”_

He took a deep breath, trying to stop the memory from finishing itself, but he knew it was hopeless, it kept replaying in his head like a broken record - 

_“What exactly are we?”_

Sighing frustratedly under his breath, he tried to shake his mind free, putting any thoughts besides that of the AT-ST out of his mind. _Not the time,_ he thought firmly. Out of the corner of his visor, he saw Cara cast a sly look at him that made him instantly wary. _That can’t be good._

“So,” she drew out, mindful to stay quiet as they continued marching, “How did you two meet?”

The question was innocent enough, he supposed, so he answered. “We met two years ago, on Nar Shaddaa.” 

She looked surprised at that, and said, “Really? She doesn’t strike me as the type to end up there, isn’t that planet run by the Hutts?”

“It is,” he confirmed, and continued, “My ship was damaged, and it needed at least two people to fly. I found her at a garage there. I asked her to travel with me to a nearby planet that had the equipment necessary to make the repairs and she said yes.”

Cara hummed, and then said, “So what made her stick around? Engineers don’t usually travel away from their garage, much less with bounty hunters.”

He sighed, and then repeated what you had told her when she asked you the same question. “I paid. Handsomely.” 

Mando inwardly cringed at the way it sounded when he said it. When you had said it, it sounded harmless, humorous, and had made Cara laugh. When he said it, it sounded … harsh. Cold. Like he equated his relationship to you as something impersonal, cheapening it.

“At least - at first,” he quickly amended, “Now we’re …” he paused uselessly for a moment before finishing weakly, “friends.”

That sly look was back, and Mando felt himself tense up before Cara had the chance to say anything. 

“Friends, huh?” she said, raising her eyebrow and grinning at him, and he started to feel a little defensive, though he tried not to show it.

He tilted his head at her and said flatly, “Is there a reason you’re bringing this up now? We’re about to be run down by an Imperial walker.”

“No reason,” she said innocently, holding up her hands placatingly, “It’s just hard to get either of you alone. Forgive a woman for being curious.”

_Hard to get us alone?_ He thought as they continued walking in silence. Thinking of his time on Sorgan, he realized reluctantly that Cara had a point. When he wasn’t sleeping, eating, or training the villagers to fight, he was usually with you and the child. In the rare instances he wasn’t doing any of those things, some of the villagers or children liked to hang around and ask him questions or for favors. He didn’t really have any time truly alone where Cara could’ve asked him anything. Sighing to himself, he realized that while the timing wasn’t the best, it was better than her asking in front of other people. He knew that it would fuel the gossip mill in Sorgan, and that people talking about you or asking personal things would make you uncomfortable. _We’ve only just started to share things about each other and we’ve been each other’s only company for two years,_ he thought, suddenly very relieved that Cara had decided to talk when the two of them were truly alone.

Any annoyance he felt earlier had dissipated. Deciding to clear the air, he said, “I appreciate you not asking in front of the villagers. They like to gossip, and Scraps is…” Not sure how to put it exactly, he said, “ … a private person.” 

Cara hummed firmly in agreement.

Mando inclined his head to her and said sincerely, “Thank you for respecting our privacy.”

With a crooked grin, she said, “You’re welcome. I will say though,” and she said this next part with blatant humor, “for such a private person, she sure does talk a lot.”

He laughed once in agreement, but before he could respond Cara continued. “It was funny to see you make her so speechless earlier.” She laughed and said, “She looked like she was going to short-circuit.”

_Scraps, speechless?_ He thought, his heart gently skipping a beat. Before he could think on it further, he saw the edge of the camp on the horizon.

_Think about it later, Din,_ he thought, signaling to Cara that the show was about to get started, _Let’s do this!_

* * *

You were never good at waiting. Not as a child, and certainly not now. When you were growing up on Aviva, you thought waiting for your Aunt Bracca to come back from trading was hard. When you started working for Mando, you realized waiting for him could be even worse, given his dangerous profession.

Now? Waiting for him and Cara was _agony_. 

You kept fidgeting and checking the charges on your blaster rifle, your eyes snapping between the gun and the edge of the clearing you could hardly see in the dark. You could feel Omera’s concerned gaze out of the corner of your eye, but you ignored it in favor of feverishly checking every inch of your gun. Next to you sat a sharpened spear, just in case melee became necessary.

After what felt like an eternity, you started to hear the rumbling sound of something big moving through the trees, and at the furthest reach of your vision, you could see the shadows of oversized red blaster bolts. Readying your gun, you watched the edge of the clearing for any raiders. When you saw Mando and Cara booking it towards the perimeter the villagers had fortified, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

Mando dived near you, panting audibly through the modulator on his helmet. On the other side of him, you could hear Cara yelling out to the villagers to be prepared.

You were elated to see him okay, and couldn’t help but joke with him before shit really hit the fan. “Hey there, stranger. How was the late night stroll?”

He was already readying his blaster rifle, but responded with a tense, “Beautiful weather, but there was a terrible racket. Ruined the ambience.”

Smiling, you said quietly, “Glad to see you back in one piece,” and put all your focus on the scope of your blaster.

The AT-ST came out of the forest, and you had to admit, with the glowing red eyes and creaking metal legs, it was pretty damn intimidating. You all watched with bated breath as it stepped closer and closer to the trap and … stopped short. 

Cara’s disbelieving voice cut through the quiet. “It _stopped_.”

You cursed under your breath, only to gasp and duck down when a spotlight came shining down on the barricade. You heard Mando commanding everyone to get down, but you could see near the end of the line that Caben and Stoke were frozen with what had to be fear. You opened your mouth to warn them, tell them to do anything except what they were currently doing, but were too late. The AT-ST started to shoot, and as Omera and Cara ordered everyone to hold the line, you saw the raiders running out of the forest, yelling and heading right for you all. Not wasting any time, at Cara’s command you began shooting as many raiders as you could.

Next to you, you could hear Mando speaking urgently to Cara.

“We have to get that thing to step forward,” he said, the conversation not breaking his stride as he took out two more raiders.

“I’m thinking,” she said, trying to get a good vantage point on the mech. All the while, the AT-ST continued to shoot at the barricade and the village, setting houses ablaze.

“Any ideas, Cara?” you asked her over the sounds of the blaster fire and people yelling.

“Yeah, new plan,” she said, holding her hand out to Mando, “Give me your pulse rifle.”

He immediately handed it over, and with a jerk of his head towards you he said, “Go, we’ll cover you.”

Grinning savagely, you slid closer to Mando to get a better angle and started keeping Cara’s left clear while Mando covered her right. You watched her drop into the pond and start provoking the AT-ST head on.

“ _Maker_ , that’s genius!” you exclaimed.

“C’mon, you got this,” Mando encouraged her, taking aim and shooting another raider.

You heard Omera give the order for the villagers to engage. Keeping your gaze forward but turning your head to the side, you asked Mando, “You good to cover her?”

He nodded, said a simple, “Yeah, go.”

Giving him the rifle so he could switch over from his blaster, you grabbed your spear and made your way out to backup the hand-to-hand fighters. _I gotta say, I think Cara and I did a damn good job teaching them,_ you thought proudly, watching some of them overtake the raiders with their own skills. _I really think I overestimated how hard these guys would be to beat. Though, they_ were _attacking farmers with no experience, so the bar was pretty low._

A raider ran at you full force, his arms above his head holding his own weapon. You huffed, planted your feet, and got him right in the stomach while using his momentum against him. He dropped like a ton of bricks, and you leaned down to yank the spear back out.

The battle after that was mostly a blur in your mind, letting your reactions and muscle memory take over while you tried to map out in your mind where all the villagers and raiders were. You could hear them yelling and fighting the way Cara and you had taught them, and you couldn’t help but feel pride. That feeling only intensified when you started to recognize the beginnings of the villagers’ success - raiders slowly being pushed back, their numbers steadily decreasing.

_I can’t believe it,_ you thought exhilarated as you pushed back a snarling raider, bracing yourself for another attack, _They’re really doing it! They’re protecting their homes, protecting their kids -_

Suddenly all you could think of was the face of your birth mother, tense and terrified - 

_It’s okay, Scraps. I’ll protect you, I swear -_

You inhaled raggedly, dangerously distracted, trying to fix your slackened grip on your spear, the raider almost on top of you - 

The face changed, now dirtied, bloodied, _screaming_ \- 

_Not her, please, please! Take me - Take us instead - SCRAPS!_

You fumbled, the raider pushing you to make you lose your balance. _Shit, shit, shit!_ You panicked and tried to regain your footing while you were awkwardly trying to defend yourself using your spear. He tried to drive his own spear right through your stomach, but you managed to knock it to the side just _barely_. He still managed to gash on your left side, the laceration already stinging; you could feel hot blood running down your side. 

The momentum of the strike he managed to land coupled with the unsteady footing made you completely lose your balance, falling to the ground and nearly losing your grip on your spear. Looking up you could see an arrogant smirk on the raiders face, positioning his weapon to hit you again.

_Good luck, asshole,_ you thought aggressively, trying to hide your growing desperation. Raising your weapon, you started scooting back, trying to build a little distance. It was fruitless, though; any distance you gained he easily closed.

_Focus on defense,_ you reminded yourself, getting ready to roll or deflect his spear, _prepare for his next attack!_

Only ... you didn’t need to. Running in, screaming shrilly, was _Stoke_. Following the reverse trajectory he was taking you could see Caben, finishing off a raider that had already been injured. 

_The two of them must’ve been tag-teaming these guys, finding strength in numbers,_ you thought, watching in awe as Stoke took the raider attacking you by enough surprise to get the upper hand, stabbing him in the chest swiftly. You sighed in relief, letting your head hit the grass. T _hank the Maker. And Stoke. I was quickly running out of ideas._

You heard a body drop and looked to see Stoke standing still, staring at the raider he had just killed. When he didn’t make a move, you called out to him.

“Stoke?” 

His gaze snapped to you, eyes wide. He rushed to your side, helping you to your feet. You couldn’t help the grimace on your face, your side burning steadily and flaring with any movement.

“Are you alright? You’re bleeding!” Stoke said frantically, gesturing to your side.

Your _left_ side.

You felt your heart stop and looked at where there was a cut in your shirt, the edges already saturated with blood. _It’s okay, it’s okay,_ you thought even as you could feel icy tendrils of panic and terror in your chest, _he cut me above the scar, no one can see it. It’s dark, no one can see it. No one can see -_

“Scraps? Are you okay?” Stoke was speaking to you, gentler this time, and you forced yourself to act normal.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said breathlessly, forcing a laugh, saying, “I think he got me worse than I thought, that’s all. It’s not bad, I’m alright.”

Before he could say anything else, the AT-ST that had been terrorizing this village finally blew, the explosion making your ears ring and the light momentarily blinding you. The remaining raiders ran like hell, retreating back to their settlement as the mech continued to burn.

Cheers erupted through the village, and you couldn’t help the smile that broke out over your face as you joined in. It looks like this nightmare was finally over.


	12. Aftermath and Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scraps and Mando dance around each other, and each new thing they learn about the child only makes him that much more of an enigma. Takes place in Episode 4: Sanctuary.
> 
> TW: blood, mentions of old injuries/scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m so happy to be updating this story sooner than expected, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to get started on the next chapter that’ll be covering the weeks spent on Sorgan. Thanks for sticking with me, and have a beautiful day/night!

_Oh, thank the Maker it’s finally over. **  
**_

You cheered alongside the villagers, pressing a hand tight to the wound on your side to try and slow the bleeding. It didn’t seem overly serious, but it continued to sluggishly leak blood, staining your shirt and starting to drip onto the top of your pants. _I should be able to get that fixed without too much hassle,_ you thought, finally allowing yourself to let your mind run, _the villagers have basic medical supplies, I can sanitize it with soap and water and sew it up myself. It’ll probably hurt like a bitch but I can’t have anybody help me. That would be a lot of questions I don’t want to answer. The hardest thing will be convincing everyone I don’t need any help though. They’re all really nice, they’ll probably want to help. That and I’ve patched Mando up more than a few times, he’ll probably want to return the favor, and Maker knows how stubborn he can get -_

At the thought of Mando, your thoughts turned direction. Suddenly, all you could feel was his hand on your shoulder, see the (affectionate?) tilt of his head, hear his voice - 

You shook your head. _Maker, what was that about?_ You wracked your brain, but were coming up short on an explanation. _Alright, I’ll blame my confusion on the blood loss. Speaking of which…_ Looking at your hand in the firelight, you could tell it was covered in blood. _Shit, this’ll be harder to play off than I thought._

You started to make your way to what was left of the AT-ST, walking slowly with your hand still pressed firm against your side. You could see Cara and Mando climbing out of a pond, soaking wet but victorious. 

“Damn, Mando,” you called over the cheering and the raging fire, making your way towards them, “I’m surprised you didn’t sink!”

He turned towards you, and you could tell the exact moment he realized you didn’t get away unscathed. His posture stiffened, his visor was pointed directly at your side, and when he spoke it sounded like an accusation. 

“You’re hurt.”

_So much for playing it off…_

You ignored him, saying teasingly, “I mean, you’re lucky those krill ponds are so shallow, otherwise Cara and I would have to fish you out.”

After you mentioned her Cara raised her hands in surrender, giving you a look that said _good luck_ and starting off towards the other villagers. Mando stepped towards you, reaching out to try and take a look at the laceration. You quickly turned your injured side away from him, backing up and rambling. “I mean, Mando, do you even _know_ how to swim? It’s not as easy as you think if you’ve never done it before - ”

“Scraps,” he warned, agitated as you continued to back up, your hand still pressed up against your side, now to both stem the slow bleeding and hide any skin that could be showing through the rip in your shirt.

Smiling wide, you responded, “Yes, Mando?”

“Stop moving and let me see.”

You felt a little tendril of panic. _He can’t, he’ll see my marking for sure,_ you thought, then gasped and said in a scandalized tone, “Are you asking me to take my _shirt off_?”

You’ve never heard Mando stutter so unintelligibly before, but you had to admit it was funnier than it should have been. You laughed loudly at the sound he was making, then through your giggles said, “M-maker, Mando I was _kidding_! Y-you- you sound like the _Crest_ when it _stalls_!”

Still laughing, you had a harder time fending off the determined Mandalorian. When he got a little too close, you finally sobered.

“Okay, _okay_ ,” you said seriously, pushing your free hand against his chest to keep him at bay, “Mando it’s not that serious, it’s practically a scratch. I can deal with it on my own later.” You were definitely underplaying it a little, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

He sighed, exasperated, and said, “I can _help_ you, just - ”

“ _No_.” 

He stilled at that. You had never used a tone like that when speaking to him, not once since the two of you met. He stopped trying to actively help, and you let your hand fall back to your side. While you were relieved that he was finally backing off, you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for shutting him down.

Sighing, you said, “I appreciate you trying to help, but I need to deal with this on my own.”

He just shook his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Mando,” you breathed exasperatedly, simultaneously touched and frustrated at his stubbornness. You stepped a little closer to him and decided to try something else. _I can’t tell him, but… maybe I can give him a shadow of the truth._

You leaned in and spoke hushed, so only he would hear, “Listen, I have a really embarrassing scar right around where I got hurt. I don’t want anyone to see it, so I want to fix it myself. That’s all.”

Mando seemed more understanding at that, and when he spoke again it was in a gentle, low voice that made your heart ache. 

“I have scars too,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t think any less of you for having them.”

 _Maker, I really wish that were true,_ you thought sorrowfully, even as you smiled at him, strained. _What would happen if he found out? What would he say? What would he think? Would he understand? Be confused? I don’t know if anyone would even recognize what the marking means these days. There’s a chance Cara might, since she was in the Rebellion, but I think the Empire stopped the use of branding marks after only a few years. People would probably think I was an Imperial traitor, marked for betraying them, or an Empire enthusiast, putting the insignia there myself as a permanent mark of allegiance. Which would Mando assume? How would I explain it to him? Would he let me stick around after I used him to stay off the Imperial radar?_

When you didn’t say anything, he ventured a reassuring, “I bet it’s not as bad as you think.”

You couldn’t help the rush of shame that you felt at his words. _Not that bad, huh? It’s burned scar tissue in the shape of the Imperial insignia. Maker, it’s bigger than my_ hand _. It’s horrible, it could get me killed._

Exhaling sharply, you answered him flatly but not unkindly, “It’s more of a disfigurement. It _is_ that bad.”

He straightened up, and you could tell he was about to say something else or maybe try to apologize. Holding up a hand you said, “It’s alright, but I want to deal with it myself. Besides,” at this, you softened, “I promise, it’s not that bad. I’ve been hurt worse fixing the Crest. This is nothing, it just smarts a lot.”

He sighed, and said reluctantly, “Fine. Can I at least help you get back to the barn?”

Smiling for real this time, you nodded at him, lifting up your right arm so he could place it over his shoulders. He carefully wrapped his arm around your injured side, mindful to place his hand high enough to avoid the gash. He was cold, both from the water and the beskar, but you didn’t mind. _Maker, he’s so broad, I can barely reach all the way around him. Is it all him or is it him with the beskar? Either way, he’s a sturdy walking partner._

“Anyone ever tell you you’d make a great cane?” you teased, your steps slow and small, trying to not trip over anything in the dark or further exacerbate your injury. If he answered you, you didn’t notice. The burn in your side was steadily growing, your breathing a bit harsher and your body more tense. _The adrenaline must be wearing off,_ you thought dimly, noticing that your pace was slowing, _Maker, I know it’s not fatal but that doesn’t make it hurt any less._

Keeping your head down to watch the path for debris, you didn’t see the concerned way Mando looked over at you. After a few minutes of your slow shambling, his raspy, tentative question caught your attention.

“Would it be easier if I carried you?”

You stopped and looked up at his visor. You bit your lip nervously and thought, _That would definitely be easier, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable…_

Uncharacteristically shy, you asked, “Are you sure?”

He nodded. Silently, you took your arm off his shoulders and awkwardly stood next to him. _Am I supposed to get in a certain position for this? I haven’t been picked up in like twenty years. What’s the protocol for this? Maker, am I_ blushing _?!_

Thankfully, Mando knew what he was doing. He bent over and smoothly swung you up in his arms, gently bouncing you once to get you in a more secure position. Your side burned something fierce, but you bore with it until it settled, clenching your teeth with a grimace until the pain was more manageable.

He seemed to have expected that, and when you started to relax he asked, “Ready?”

You nodded, reaching up to lock your hands behind his neck, and he started to walk towards your shared barn on the opposite side of the village. He walked slow, keeping himself steady to not jostle you too much. It was greatly appreciated on your end, and the light swaying was pleasant. _This is… really nice,_ you thought, tightening your grip a little to try and pull yourself up more. You could feel his chest rise underneath the beskar as he breathed. _I haven’t been this close to him since he was stabbed by the quarry on Corellia and I helped him back into the ship. Or burned by that quarry near Cato Neimoidia and I helped him back into the ship. Or - actually, we’re only this close when one of us gets hurt._ Despite that, you couldn’t help but note the full feeling in your chest.

Mando carried you quietly; the only sounds you could hear clearly were his footsteps. The clammer of villagers died down the further you walked away, leaving a shade of their victory echoing in the night air. _I’m glad it all turned out okay,_ you thought, looking around to try and distinguish as much as you could in the dark. _The villagers were so worried, especially Omera and the other parents. I can’t say I blame them, though, it has to be harder on them._

Your thoughts turned to the kid. _Are we… like his parents now? Did he have parents before? Are they still alive, looking for him? He’s such a good kid, I can’t imagine that if his parents were still alive that they wouldn’t be looking for him. I’ve only known him for a few weeks and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to him. Does Mando feel the same way? I mean, he has to, he was the one who suggested we go back for him._

 _Is it… presumptuous to think of us as his parents? Or to let him think that we are now?_ You had to admit you didn’t feel completely comfortable calling yourself a parent, even if you cared about the little guy. _We wronged him, and I don’t think we’ve redeemed ourselves from that. I’m not sure it would ever be right for us to be his parents. Guardians, sure. Protectors, absolutely. But parents? Maker, we don’t even know what his name is, or if he was ever given one -_

Before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “We should give the kid a nickname.”

Mando looked down at you and said, “What?”

“A nickname,” you repeated, “I don’t know if he was ever given a real name, but since you and I go by nicknames I figured it couldn’t hurt. It’d be easier than calling him ‘the kid’ all the time.”

“That’s true,” he said, his voice raspy through the modulator, “Did you have something in mind?”

You thought for a moment and shook your head. “Honestly, the only thing coming to mind right now is ‘kid’. Kind of defeats the purpose, huh?”

He laughed in that quiet, huffy way and said, “We could call him ‘womp rat’.”

“Mando!” you laughed, “That’s so mean! And inaccurate. He looks more like a frog.”

“You’re right, that’s much kinder,” he said sarcastically, making you laugh again, and then asked curiously, “Why were you thinking about that?”

You sighed. “Well, I was thinking about the other kids, and then _the_ kid, and I realized that we’ve just been calling him ‘kid’. It’d be good to give him something we can call him by, to get his attention and talk to him with. It’d be good for his development.”

He hummed in agreement. You were starting to slip down, so Mando gently bounced you up again, your side burning dully with the movement. You stared at the arm wrapped around the backs of your knees and thought, _He’s not strained at all by the extra weight. His breath isn’t even labored, and he’s carrying me and all his armor. Maker, his clothes are still wet and yet he seems totally unaffected. Then again, I_ have _seen him wrangle in quarries that were twice his size before without too much hassle. He’s definitely strong. He’s a great fighter too, I wonder how long it took him to learn to fight the way he does. Maybe I should work on my own skills too, in case we run into more dangerous situations. I wonder if he or Cara would be willing to teach me a bit…_

He must have noticed your mind was starting to run on its own because he asked, “And what are you thinking about now?”

Mindlessly, you commented, “You’re really strong.”

Mando’s grip on you tightened a little in response. You gave him a look and said a low, teasing, “ _Show off_.”

He didn’t react, and in the back of your mind you wondered if he meant to do that. You sighed, leaned your head on his pauldron, and kept going. “Do you think you can teach me how to fight?”

“You want to learn how to fight?” he said, sounding far too surprised for your liking.

“Don’t act so shocked.” Trying to give him an out, you said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to.”

You glanced back up to his visor, but he was stoically facing forward. He continued. “It’s a good idea, and it’s a good skill to have. Though,” his voice became much more cocky and he glanced down at you, “you’re going to regret asking. I’m not going to take it easy on you.”

“Oh wow, now you’re intimidating me? Trying to make me back down?” you shot back, grinning up at him, “What, are you scared I’ll kick your ass first try?”

He huffed, shaking his head, and you could tell that he was smiling. The two of you stayed comfortably silent and before you knew it, you were back at the barn. Mando shouldered open the entrance and slowly placed you on your cot. You gave him a sincere, “Thank you,” watching as he walked to the other side of the room to grab what was left of your shared medkit.

He held it out and you reached out to take it, placing it on the nightstand and flipping it open to take stock. Mando started to walk towards the door, saying, “I’m going to go get the kid. I’ll be back soon.”

You nodded an acknowledgement and he left, closing the entrance behind him.

“Okay,” you sighed to yourself, finally lifting up your shirt to take a look. The gash wasn’t pretty, but it wasn’t too deep. _Nothing some stitches won’t fix,_ you thought, prodding the skin around it and hissing through your teeth, _It’ll scar, but what else is new. At least the cut was clean enough that it’ll heal quickly._ You stared at the marking half an inch below the cut for a moment, thinking, _I guess I could cover it with a blanket so Mando could help, but it’s probably too risky._ You sighed, pressing your hand back up to the wound. It wasn’t bleeding much anymore, but judging by the size of the blood stains on your shirt and the top of your pants it wouldn’t be a good idea to let it keep going either. You needed to treat it sooner rather than later.

 _Okay, I have a needle and thread here, might as well get this over with._ Quickly threading the needle and tying the medical-grade thread securely around the eye, you took a deep breath and held it, pinching the skin together and making a move to start sewing it back up. Before you could, you heard loud babbling coming up around the side of the hut. You quickly tugged your shirt back down and placed the needle on the side table next to you, looking towards the front of the barn.

The door to the hut cracked opened, revealing the kid looking very pleased with himself. _How did he get all the way here without anyone noticing him,_ you thought, watching as he caught sight of you and waddled over to the side of your cot. He gave you a smile and reached up, making grabby hands at you.

You chuckled and reached down to pick him up with your free hand, setting him in your lap and saying playfully, “Did you give Mando the slip?”

He didn’t seem to be listening, and was staring intently at your left hand pressed up against your side. He looked back up to you and cooed questioningly. Reassuringly, you said, “I’m alright, kiddo, don’t worry about it.”

The kid reached his hand out, placing it over your bloodstained one and squinting at it. _He’s more aware of his surroundings than I thought,_ you thought in awe, watching the kid as he offered you support, _I keep thinking he’s an infant, but he’s clearly more developed than that. He knew I got hurt and he’s trying to make me feel better. Maker, what a sweet child -_

Your thoughts paused when you started to feel the strangest sensation in your side, something indescribable. It felt warm, yet cool, and fluttered inside and around the injury but didn’t hurt.

“What the…” you muttered to yourself, but your attention was quickly redirected to the kid, who had begun to tremble. _That’s not normal, is he okay? Is he cold? Is he having a seizure?_ Placing your free hand on his back, you asked a worried, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” 

As soon as the words left your mouth, he released you, falling back into your hand and then into your lap. He looked exhausted, but gave you a sleepy looking smile before closing his eyes and stilling. Reaching out with both hands, you picked him up, exhaling your relief to see that he was still breathing and didn’t seem to be in any pain. Cradling him to your chest with your right hand and moving your left back down to your side, you said to yourself, “What was that about?”

You started to once again press firmly against the wound, only to find that it didn’t hurt as much as it did earlier. In fact, it didn’t hurt. At all.

_Wait, what?_

You lifted your shirt back up, seeing your old mark was still there with a fair amount of half-dried blood painting your side, but no cut. No sign of it anywhere, like it had just vanished.

Dumbly you stared at your side, your mind totally blank, and it was only the thundering footsteps coming towards the front of the barn and a yell of your nickname that shook you out of it. You yanked your shirt back down and watched as Mando ran into the house.

“I can’t find the kid anywhere - ” he started, panicking, but quickly stopped when he noticed him curled up on your chest.

Mando instantly deflated, sighing in obvious relief. He straightened back up and made his way to you, holding his hands out for you to pass him over. Mechanically, you did, unable to stop staring at the child.

“You little womp rat,” Mando said warmly, looking the kid over to make sure he was alright. He tucked him to his chest and looked back to you only to see you staring wide-eyed at the child.

“Scraps? What’s wrong?”

Blinking at him, dumbfounded, you said, “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine.”

He took a step closer, his helmet tilted at you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You slowly nodded, and with an incredulous laugh you said, “I’m feeling perfect, actually. In fact, I’m not even injured anymore.”

He looked at you with more concern, and before he could say anything or question your sanity you pointed to the kid and said simply, “The kid healed me. The cut’s totally gone.”

When he spoke, he sounded just as dumbfounded as you. “ _What_?”

Shrugging helplessly, you said, “I don’t know, but I can tell you for sure that he healed me. Totally healed, no trace of it all at. There’s isn’t even a scar.”

The two of you stared at the slumbering child, and you wondered if Mando felt as helpless as you did in that moment.

* * *

The two of you watched as the child continued to sleep in his crib. He’d only been sleeping for an hour, and you didn’t expect him to wake up for quite some time yet, probably not until tomorrow afternoon since it was so late in the night already. 

“It’s like the mudhorn,” Mando said for the third time, still pacing the barn. He groaned frustratedly and threw up his hands. “I don’t _understand_ it.”

You shook your head, pressing a fist to your mouth. “He can move things with his mind and heal injuries. Wait, is he healing injuries or is he speeding up the time it takes for them to heal? But there wasn’t a scar, so maybe he was _reversing_ the cells back in time until they were no longer injured. Can the child control time? Maybe he was just expending his own energy and converting it into healing energy. That’s probably why he gets so tired after doing things like this. I’ve never heard of any creature being able to do any of this stuff. I can’t wrap my mind around this, it breaks every law of physics I know - ”

You kept rambling to Mando, and it was a sign of his own confusion and worry that he didn’t try to interact with, interrupt, interject, or stop you. 

Finally exhausting yourself, you sighed and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, falling silent. You heard Mando pause in his pacing and walk over, sitting down on the cot next to you.

After you composed yourself a little you put your hands back in your lap, looking at the kid. “I don’t know what to do, Mando.”

He listened without a word, and suddenly you felt utterly lost. You couldn’t stop the sting of tears. _Maker, what were we thinking? We can’t take care of a normal child, let alone one that has such power._ Sniffling, you admitted to him with a watery voice, “I feel _extremely_ underqualified.”

He sighed, then leaned to rest his shoulder against yours. You reached an arm around his side, resting your head against his pauldron.

“I know we were his best option at the time,” you said tentatively, wiping your eyes before the tears had a chance to fall, “but I’m not sure we’re what’s best for him.”

Mando reached around to wrap his arm around you and said, “I know what you mean.”

The tears kept coming, hot in your eyes and starting to fall down your face, making you more frustrated. Embarrassed, rapidly wiping at them you said a congested sounding, “Sorry.”

He ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly. “You don’t have to apologize.”

You leaned further into him. He kept running his hand along your bicep, letting you calm down and compose yourself. After you stopped crying and your breathing had slowed, he said, “It’s late, and we’re both tired. We’ll be on Sorgan for at least a few weeks, so we can talk more about it another time. Let’s just… get some rest.”

You nodded and released him. He gave your arm a final squeeze before standing. Watching his back you were overcome with an impulse, and you reached out to grab his gloved hand. He turned while you got to your feet, and he promptly froze like a statue when you wrapped your arms around him.

Pressing your cheek to his chestplate, you said a small, “Thank you,” and let him go. He didn’t make a move until you got back into your cot. He took an odd half-step in your direction, but then he quickly changed direction and went to his own bed, climbing in without taking off any of his armor.

Smiling to yourself, your back facing him, you thought, _What a big, awkward, metal softie._


End file.
